


Jettisoned

by Bisabis



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, I changed the rating because it's rated M on fanfictiondotnet, M/M, Multi, NONE ARE ABOVE THE OTHER EXCEPT MAYBE KARNAYA BUT I'M NOT TELLING YOU IF IT'S RED OR PALE LOL, Past Child Abuse, Prequel, SHIPS ARE NOT IN ORDER OF PRIORITY, Sadstuck, THERE ARE A LOT OF SHIPS BUT THEY ARE NOT THE FOCUS, a few important characters are dead just saying
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-28
Updated: 2016-08-04
Packaged: 2017-12-09 18:57:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 42
Words: 148,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/776876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bisabis/pseuds/Bisabis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things that weren’t supposed to happen, but happened anyway.<br/>This is how the trolls got to Earth.</p><p>In an effort to try to radically change Alternian Society among adult Trolls, Feferi Peixes runs for democratic office, with the help of her manager, Karkat Vantas, and her moirail, Eridan Ampora. Things go horribly, terribly wrong when a rally with highbloods turns chaotic. Karkat tries to find some sort of normalcy and resides with Terezi Pyrope, a famous legislacerator, until a fateful day when she herself falls victim to the very society Feferi is trying to change.</p><p>Includes special Intermissions featuring Dirk/Roxy and Jake/Jane</p><p>Trigger warnings in future chapters for abuse.</p><p>(Why yes, this is the prequel to Once Upon A Dissension)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. And Now We're Going To Die

“About the hemospectrum,” Feferi paused for effect. Good, just like she was taught. Eridan stood by her side while Karkat looked on from offstage.

All she has to do is follow the script that she and Karkat painstakingly wrote together. He hates politics and would rather be doing his dream job of thresecutioning with his matesprit, but this is the only thing his lowblood status can get him. Nowadays, lowbloods can be appointed higher statuses, but they still can’t ascend naturally. He is a campaign manager, whatever that is. It’s a process. It’s also a ridiculous premise, since Feferi invented the job, but it earns his keep and prevents his immediate culling. He owes a lot to the naïve Troll, but who’s complaining?

“Things have to change,” she continues. Oh, shit. The crowd begins to murmur. “This hierarchy is corrupt!” No. Stop.

Eridan reaches forward, gently pulling on her arm. “Fef, not yet!” he pleads. As a “vice”, or second-in-command, whatever they call it, he has no guts when it concerned his moirail. What a shitty choice. Vriska the pirate would have been a better choice. Or whatever she calls herself nowadays; the Explorer or something. It’s too soon to call herself a legend; she’s barely out of her hometown, which just so happens to be the town next to Karkat’s.

She gently shoves him away as the murmuring escalates into arguing and shouts.

That fucking idiot! Karkat drags his hand down his face in the facepalm of century. As her advisor, he constantly advises her not to propose such big changes until after she takes the throne. At this rate—

“It’s unfair to all, even myself! I know it sounds crazy now, but if I become a martyr that day, I will be fighting for all of you, glub damn it!” She finishes, pounding on the podium. But instead of an angry mob of lowbloods overtaking the stage, there were cheers and chanting.

Dumbfounded, Karkat stares out into the crowd, where horns of all shapes and sizes bounce like waves in the ocean where her Imperious Condescension hails from. As violent as modern society is, he is actually surprised they can all assemble like this peacefully. Giving the situation one last look-over, he deems it safe to emerge and herd the politicians off-stage.

Karkat Vantas  
Age: 8 ½ sweeps  
Occupation: Manager/grubsitter  
Blood Caste: [REDACTED]  
Legacy: The youngest Troll ever to do this shit

-

Karkat Vantas returns to his shared hive just before dawn, as usual. There are two things he wants right now, the second being sleep. The first greets him at the door. Rather, she startles him into a panic attack.

“Karkat!” she shouts, making him jump into the stratosphere.

The first being her.

“I wasn’t worried at all!” she says a little too loudly and flinging her arms around him. He calms down and returns the gesture, burying his face in her hair.

“I thought I was going to die out there, Terezi,” he mutters, holding her tight. He inhales through his nose memorizing her scent. “Fucking highbloods and their sense of entitlement.”

“I’m going to ignore that,” she mutters back sarcastically. He doesn’t even consider her a highblood on a normal basis. She is also a sweep-and-a-half older than he is. Why should that even matter?

He quickly mutters an apology, then continues. “I’m not looking forward to tomorrow’s speech.”

“The highbloods tomorrow, right?” she confirms, parting from him.

“I’m going to lose sweeps off of my already unknown lifespan for sure.” He follows her to their block, where he sheds his simple suit marked with Feferi’s insignia on the back, and his own on the front, identifying him under the protection of her caste. His job comes with some perks. Eridan’s publicity clothing is marked the same way, except flashier. Symbolically, this is supposed to prevent backstabbing. They both change into their slime-clothes, which Terezi can actually afford, special outfits that can be worn in cocoons, which are made out of slime-resistant material.

“Did you cancel your hate date tomorrow?”

“Why wouldn’t I Karkles?” She smirks and raises an eyebrow.

“Because maybe I need a moirail if I survive tomorrow’s event?”

“Didn’t you dump him?”

“I did.”

She stares at him incredulously in his general direction, not quite on-target.

“Who else is there?”

She draws her mouth to the side.

“Fuck, I don’t know! And stop staring at me like that, you’re making me feel like you have pale feelings for me or something!” There was a time that he wanted her in every quadrant, but those days were long past.

She saunters forward seductively. “And if I did?” She takes his hands in hers, making him flush a deep red.

“Fuck you! You’re just as flushed as I am!” he protests.

At that point, she cackles and leads his hands to his face, smacking either side lightly. He could have sworn she whispered for him to stop hitting himself.

-

The two awaken with a jolt, to a desperate banging on their hive door. He peels himself off her like he usually does and glances at the time. He could have slept for another hour. His eye twitches instinctively. Whoever this is had better have a reason for waking him up before the crack of sunset. Not even bothering to wipe off the slime, he puts on some two-day-old soiled pants that needed to be washed anyway. The insistent banging continues.

“Okay, okay! God! I’m coming!” he shouts. Terezi is already up and heads into the bathroom, muttering that she might as well just get the work day going. Karkat mutters slews of curses instead. Peering through the primitive visual portal, he grimaces, too tired for this shit. He flings the door open, shading his eyes. “What do you want?” Fresh grubs on a _stick_ , it’s bright.

“I’m worried about Fef,” Eridan mumbles.

“What, no commentary on how a lowblood of my status was rude just now?” Karkat snides.

“I’m searious, Kar!” he begs. “She’s goin’ to get herself culled if her Imperious finds out! Plus you know I’m not like that anemonemore.” It takes all of Karkat’s self-control not to roll his eyes.

He sighs. “Knowing her, she probably already knows and doesn’t care.”

“Can this actually work though? A new gowernment?”

“Look, Eridan, come inside, you’re already sunburned, we’ll talk there.”

Eridan complies and Karkat shuts the door.

“I’ve already come to terms with this. It’s not going to be perfect, dumbass! It’s a theory at best, and it’s already been attempted with terrible results.”

“I just can’t help feelin’ that this is a bad idea.” Eridan looks off to the side.

“I know what you’re going to say. Just say it.”

Eridan narrows his eyes, now eye-to-eye with Karkat. “You shouldn’t have giwen her that book.”

“You mean my ancestor’s _journal_? I didn’t! I just showed it to her.”

“Why?!”

“I didn’t expect her to run with it! It was also stolen from me multiple times by certain females, and through an overcomplicated series of events, physically got into her hands! It’s not my fault she knows how to read!”

“You should hawe just burned the dam thing!” he yells, throwing his arms in the air.

“And destroy all that was left of my ancestor?!” He pauses. “Actually, that might not have been such a bad idea.”

“Save your glubbin’ ancestor-hatin’ story for someone who cares. I’m supposed to be her moirail and I’m doing an awful job of it!” Karkat notes the changing timbre in Eridan’s voice at the latter part of that sentence.

“Speaking of moirails, why did you come here? I’m not some cheap pale whore.”

“I thought you were my friend.”

“Friends don’t tattle on moirails. Just talk to her, she’ll understand.” There was no conviction in his voice, and Eridan picked up on that.

Eridan sighs and dramatically collapses on the only sofa in the hive. “I’ll just sleep here until the sun goes down.” He drapes his arm over his eyes, his sunburn already almost healed. Karkat sighs and retrieves a towel damp with slime.

“Here, it looks like you haven’t slept all day.” Karkat drops it on Eridan’s arm.

He hears Terezi stepping out of the shower, warns her that Eridan is around, and then showers himself.

-

“Feferi, do me a favor?” Karkat asks. He and Feferi sat alone in the soundproof room behind the stage. The outdoor bandshell amphitheatre they rented was filled to the brim with highbloods, and there were even more crowding the ground level. It was nowhere near as primitive as the rickety stage they were on yesterday. This one made the one yesterday look like a wooden crate.

“Yes Karkat?” she answers with fake glee. She is nervous, but hiding it well.

“Please don’t die.”

“I won’t.”

“No surprises.”

“Glub!”

“ _No surprises_.”

“But I planned one just for you!”

“No. Fucking. _Surprises_.”

“Everything that we rehearsed, right?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

She looked about the room. “Where’s Eridan?”

Shit. Karkat hadn’t seen him since he left the hive. He kicked himself for not dragging Eridan’s sorry seadweller ass with him to the rally. “I don’t know.”

“He’ll be here,” she tried to assure herself. She was obviously distraught. She needed her moirail and he wasn’t around.

“Yeah, sure,” Karkat said under his breath. He wasn’t even sure himself.

As if on cue, the moirail in question busts in with a small box in tow. “Sorry I’m late, Fef! I had to get this thing!”

“You’re late!” she scolds, standing up quickly. She couldn’t hide her nervousness anymore, and her lips started to quiver.

“I’m so sorry,” he says softly, stroking her cheek with his free hand. “I saw this and the pet store man refused to let it go without me payin’ for it.” He holds up the box between them and opens it. After he does so, she gasps and reaches inside, pulling out a perfect glass orb filled with water… and a tiny cuttlefish swimming inside. It couldn’t have been older than a baby. She smiles widely and puts her face against it.

“It’s perfect,” she whispers. She pulls Eridan down and kisses his cheek at the base of his fin. Karkat wished he would have a consistent moiraillegence like this. Instead he has… well, Gamzee.

Karkat looked at his watch, suddenly aware that they were on a schedule. “Okay, break it up. Feferi, let’s get this over with.”

“Okay, Crankat!” she replies, all of her fear outwardly dissipated. Karkat’s eye twitches again.

-

“About the hemospectrum…” So far, Feferi has kept her word and kept the speech a carbon copy of yesterday’s. So far, the crowd has been calm. Karkat figures that it’s due to the two highest of highbloods on the stage.

The highest that he can see among the crowd are some scattered purple-bloods. One of them wasn’t paying attention to the speech at all, scratching at his face and squirming where he sat. He made eye contact with another purple-blood and the other one shook his head slightly. If Karkat hadn’t been looking right at him, this exchange would have gone unnoticed. The first purple-blood directed his gaze to the stage once again. Karkat put his hand on his sickle and began to carefully sneak up on the purple-blood.

As he makes his way down, he bumps into a road block. He looks up at the Troll to see if he can pass by unscathed and not give away his position. It was another purple-blood, easily two heads taller than Karkat’s average stature. They lock themselves into a glaring contest, sizing each other up, the sound of Feferi’s amplified voice fading. The tall purple-blood scoffs and looks back at the stage. As soon as he does, evidence of some white makeup that had been missed while washing it away confirms Karkat’s fears: subjuggulators. He grips the hilt of his weapon, slowly backtracking to the stage. He can practically feel his anxiety levels maxing out. They were so off the charts, he couldn’t even remember his own name; fight or flight, and both are impossible. All that’s left now is alarm.

“As a member of the highest caste, I find this completely unfair!” Feferi continues. The highbloods begin to chatter now. Karkat needs to get to her fast, give her the signal to end the speech quickly.

Karkat gives a wave, getting her attention, and then runs his thumb across his neck.

She blinks, an affirmative action. She faces the audience again. “Maybe not tomorrow, maybe not in the next sweep, but eventually, I have plans to incorporate Trolls of every level so that we may all be on equal ground!” The crowd gets louder.

Karkat looks over at the audience to locate the subjuggulators, but every single one has dissolved in the crowd, which was now on its feet. Shit!

Now that Karkat is thinking about it, the location is optimal for a public execution by angry mob. The bandshell was in a bowl, a valley, and the only way to get out was through the crowd. He gulps nervously, mouth suddenly devoid of all moisture.

They’re all going to die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter's title brought to you by: Knife Party


	2. Never Let Go

“Nepeta, we both know you are not allowed around here,” her moirail reminded her. She wasn’t worried, though.

“As long as I am wearing my purrfect disguise, I will be fine!” She gives her highblooded (and unsurprisingly closed-minded) moirail a thumbs-up. She straightens her hat and pulls her long sleeves down, covering up the various scars that she acquired through countless hunting expeditions, as well as a tattoo of her sign on her shoulder.

“I am still wondering why you brought those weapons with you,” Equius says, pointing to her semi-inconspicuous gloves. The three retractable knives embedded in them have gone undetected so far.

“What? They’re close to your blood color so they are okay! I don’t have many things in blue, so there’s nothing wrong with wearing them all at once when I have the oppurrtunity.” She glances around, and sees a ceruleanblood with a dagger at his belt. “See? Look!” she exclaims, pointing excitedly. “Whoop!” Equius had grabbed around her waist and carried her off like a sack of grubs.

“There is no need to draw attention to yourself,” he mutters. “The speech is about to begin, and we need to find our places.”

“You’re so sweet, Equius,” she giggles, patting his arm. She couldn’t reach his head, so his arm was the best she could do.

He mutters something that sounded like a “Don’t mention it,” and finally found an opening on the side of the stage.

“Can we sit in the middle? I like to see the whole stage!” Nepeta suggests. “And can I walk now?”

“My apologies. And no. This spot is fine,” he replies.

“Mean! I won’t enjoy it!” she plops down with her arms crossed, glaring at the stage.

“Yes you will,” he orders, sitting down next to her.

“Nope!”

“Yes.”

“No!”

“Yes.”

She lets out a groan of frustration as the speakers send feedback through the audience. The soundwaves wreak havoc on Nepeta’s sensitive hunting ears as she immediately claps her fists over them.

Equius pats her back as gently as he could, comforting her. He tugs on her sleeve when they disappear.

“Now, I know you have all been waiting for this for sweeps, but somehow there are actually some of us who don’t like the bullshit we have to face every day of our fucking lives.” The master of ceremonies, whose blood color was not visible on his sign, spoke.

“Such language,” Equius mutters.

“Shh!” Nepeta whispers. “You said you wanted to see things my way, so at least listen!”

Nepeta had never seen this Troll before, and now that she heard his words, she was curious to know more, and he wasn’t even the guest of honor! She put her chin in her hands, then her elbows on her knees, her full attention the politicians onstage. They were purroposing—er, proposing a lot of things that were different, but she agrees with them nonetheless.

She sneaks a peek out of the corner of her eye, and finds her moirail not only paying attention, but he had also taken off his glasses while she wasn’t looking.

“What do you think?” she whispers, leaning towards him diagonally.

“I think what they are proposing will get them all assassinated,” he deadpans.

Nepeta turns her face to him, squinting her eyes. He glances at her expression quickly and beads of sweat start to form on his forehead.

“But,” he pauses. “Perhaps in the future it can be done.”

“Maybe,” she sighs, positioning back to normal. “It’d really be unfortunate if—”

She tenses, every single hair and follicle on her body springing to life. She inhales sharply through her nostrils as a feeling of terror engulfs the crowd. She starts to purr menacingly and grips the wooded bench tightly.

“Nepeta, stop breaking the bench,” Equius warns.

Her angry purrs turn into growls in response.

“Are you okay?” He appurrently stopped paying attention to the speech.

She contains her growls and struggles to speak. “I feel,” she mutters. Swallowing hard, she tries to speak again, failing.

“You don’t look well. We must leave.”

“It might be too late,” she manages to get out, facing him.

“What?” He glances around the area, calculating a path of escape. The Trolls surrounding them were getting antsy and wild.

“I don’t like this.”

“Unclench your hands, you’re bleeding.”

She complies. She holds up her hands in front of her face. Sure enough, her fingernails were bleeding, revealing her lowblood color to any highblood that was paying attention at that moment.

He fiddles around for something to wrap her hands with, but gets distracted by extremely loud feedback from the microphone. He clamps his palms to his ears to block out the noise, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Equius!” Nepeta shrieks. “It’s not real! Snap out of it! Open your eyes and look!”

Despite himself, he keeps them shut, barely able to hear her voice anymore. His muscles tense and flex, ready for assault if necessary. Why did he need to attack? Was Nepeta injured? Yes, the noise is painful to her, possibly more than his own pain. It needed to stop. The feedback that came from it needed to be stopped. How dare they do this. He began to see what Nepeta had been telling him about the highest of highbloods’ abuse of power. He now feels so angry about his own shortsightedness. Something must be done. Something was telling him that silencing the ones onstage would solve this. Yes, that is a good decision.

A sharp pain inflames his cheek and he opens his eyes to a distressed Nepeta and a flurry of citizens rushing past. She was fine. There was no feedback. His ears aren’t ringing either, like the feedback had never existed. He was thinking about attacking the very Trolls he had complimented earlier for their outlandish proposals about peace on Alternia. Nepeta’s eyes fill up with tears as she smiles at him.

“Don’t you efurr do that again!” she scolds, wagging her finger at him with more of her blood dripping down her hand.

“Not in a thousand sweeps,” he replies.

One of the other members of the audience bumps into Nepeta, nearly knocking her over. It was the master of ceremonies himself, the lowblood that announced the event! Equius hesitates before attacking that shorter Troll only because his weapon was drawn and his expression was alarmed.

“You, stop,” Equius orders.

“I don’t have time for you, she’s going to die and it’s all my fault!” he answers angrily.

“That’s awful!” Nepeta exclaims. She shoots Equius a look. He understood. She looks back at the short one. “How can we help?”

“If you can figure out a way to get us out of here alive, I’ll owe you!” He shoves past the other Trolls in the direction of the stage. The highblood politicians there were definitely in danger, even if they did have super healing abilities. Nothing could save them if they were torn apart.

“Are you ready, Equius?” Nepeta asks her moirail, tightening her claw gloves. She looked up at him with only her eyes and a toothy smirk.

He punches the palm of his other hand, returning the smile. “It certainly has been a long time since I have had worthy opponents.” Most of these highbloods have powers stronger than his, but it did not deter him.

Equius clears a path through the crowd towards the stage by hitting with the ground with a strong punch, which sends a shockwave through the grounds, making Trolls of all sizes lose their balance. He takes Nepeta in his arm gently and dashes to the stage, where the rude Troll from before had gotten the politicians out of sight. He figures they are backstage, so he leaps on it and charges for the wall that divided the stage and where he thought the green room was. He lets Nepeta down and palms it, smashing a rather large hole in it.

He removed his hand only to find an angry lowblood on the other side.

“You didn’t have to smash through the fucking wall!” he yells.

“Language, lowblood!”

“This is not the time! Either help us or don’t!”

“Equius, I think something is furry, I mean very wrong,” Nepeta warns.

Equius turns to her. Her expression is extremely worrisome. She stood poised for battle as fellow highbloods start to storm the stage. Their expressions remind him of what he went through just moments before; they are being influenced by something. It’s not their fault. This will not be easy.

Nepeta Leijon  
Age: 9 sweeps  
Occupation: Hunter  
Blood Caste: Olive  
Legacy: Loyal Guardian

Equius Zahhak  
Age: 10 sweeps  
Occupation: Butler  
Blood Caste: Indigo  
Legacy: Victim #23

-

Nepeta swipes her claws left and right, taking down highbloods that come near their tight group. She never thought that she would ever fight them, since it meant death no matter what the verdict. It wasn’t fair, and she had hoped the people she is protecting would change all that. Of course all of her hopes would go out the door before the first swipe of her claws. Even if she was never caught, she would still be guilty.

The one who opened the confurrence with his speech, who identified himself as “Karkat”, had joined you and your meowrail in the fight. They are surrounded, and there’s no pawsible way to get out.

“There’s no possible way to get out of here!” Karkat yells, severing a hand from an oncoming Troll. Despite the situation, she felt her heart flutter at the fact that they were thinking the same thing.

“Do you have any other suggestions, lowblood?” Equius chimes, sending a fellow member of his caste flying. They had made it to the edge of the stage, and that Troll landed somewhere among the rest trying to storm it.

“I’m thinking, I’m thinking!” He snarls at the comment and lands a finishing blow the Troll he had dismembered.

“I might have a suggestion!” Feferi shouts over the crowd. “Just let them take me, I’ll survive! I can just—”

“Fuck no!” Karkat and Eridan yell simultaneously.

“I’m not going to let you die, not ever!” Eridan yells. Nepeta eyes a tealblood heading for Eridan and pounces between them, thrusting her claws into her gut. Her blood is cooler than Nepeta’s, and it reminds her of when Equius hurt his hand while smashing rocks away after her hive had caved in, trapping her and killing her lusus. Good moirails protect each other, live for each other, and never let each other go. She pushed the dead Troll towards an oncoming one.

“But they’re after _me_! Maybe if—” He silenced her. Nepeta glances at the pair and sees them liplocked, Eridan grabbing her collar with both hands. She blushes and turns ahead, assisting Equius by kicking his attacker in the knee, bending it backward. The Troll screams in pain for only a split second.

“I’ll let them rip me apart before I let them take you away,” he mutters. “Not again.” Her sensitive ears can pick up that much.

“As much as I love to hear you two have sloppy makeouts right here on the stage like some fucking movie, I’d really appreciate it if you’d pay attention and come up with a plan that isn’t utter shit!” Karkat yells vehemently as he takes down a ceruleanblood in one fatal swipe to the neck.

Nepeta glances at Equius, catching him eyeing the two highbloods himself. He reaches for her and pulls her close, backhanding another ceruleanblood that was about to attack her. She could tell he was affected by the actions of the other two and utters four simple words.

“Be prepared to catch.”

Before she could ask, he turns her around roughly for her, gently for him, grabs the back of her shirt collar with hand and the bottom with the other, and propels her to an empty part of the side of the amphitheater’s audience section. She shrieks as she flies, but lands on all fours instinctually. She gasps and looks down at him, her breath caught in her throat.

“Equius…!” Nepeta whispers, tears forming in her eyes. She begins to hyperventilate. Didn’t he hear a word that Eridan just said?! Equius knows better than to—

He raises his hand and points at her with two fingers, and separates them, making half of a diamond shape with them. He elbows an oncoming Troll without breaking eye contact. She purses her quivering lips, raising her hand to complete the diamond. She sniffs and wipes away tears, nodding to tell him she was ready to catch.

He approaches Feferi, and she nods in agreement. Always the highbloods first. Nepeta steadies herself with open arms as he hoists the fuchsiablood and throws her. Nepeta catches her with ease. She’s slightly bony, but Nepeta can tell that she’s entirely muscle.

Equius does the same with Eridan, who’s more wary and reluctant, but complies all the same. He yells as he flies, trying not to flail around. She grimaces, not wanting him to injure himself if he lands on her wrong. He’s a lot heavier than Feferi, and he makes her stumble backward, cursing all the way. She hisses in response, and flees to Feferi’s side.

Nepeta readies for Karkat’s arrival and sees him arguing with Equius. The rest of the Trolls are closing in fast, not seeming to realize that the original target has already escaped. Equius finally gets frustrated and snatches up Karkat’s upper arm, most surely bruising it and launches him at her, flailing violently. This will not end well. He lands roughly, crushing her against the grass. She groans and he peels himself off, yelping. She snaps out of her awe that his eyes have deep red splotches forming and scrambles back to her feet. She doesn’t like what she sees.

Equius is completely surrounded. He has no backup and they’re very close now, and starting to injure him. She feels like she’s going to puke.

“Equius!” Nepeta screams above the crowd.

She can barely make out a reply, “Nepeta!”

“Equius, jump!” she screams again, tears streaming down. “Strong jump! Please! Equius!”

He’s not going to make it. The attacks are getting more accurate and his injuries and getting worse. He pushes two away only to have three more take their places. Finally, a small clearing appears and he readies to jump when the ceruleanblood with the dagger from earlier thrusts into his side, spilling blood.

“EQUIUS!” she half screams, half hisses. She gets ready to pounce when he is engulfed with Trolls and someone grabs around her waist.

“You can’t save him, dumbass!” Karkat yells.

“NOO!” She frantically scratches at him, but misses and gets herself instead. She cries out but keeps her eyes on the stage, scouring the crowd for some sign of her meowrail. After everything they had been through, this was not how it was going to end! She won’t be helpless! Nefurr! Karkat’s saying something, but she can’t hear.

Finally, she sees a familiar hand with his half of the diamond. She stops flailing and returns the gesture, her vision almost completely blurred. All she feels are her self-inflicted injuries and tears streaming down, down, down, saturating the dry ground.

“We have to go,” Feferi says gently, breaking the silence and the blackness. Nepeta looks up to see a sincere expression. She’s right. There’s no time to grieve.

Nepeta wipes away final tears and says, “Okay.” Karkat gets her back to her feet.

“We’ll go to my hive,” Karkat offers. “My matesprit is a legislacerator, she’ll find out what happened here.” And just like that, Nepeta feels a stab, then nothing.

“Are you sure?” Eridan asks.

“She can take care of herself.” Karkat sounds resolved, and it seems to convince the group.

-

Three hours later, they approach a middle-end neighborhood, hives similar to that of Equius’. Everything seems to be working out, despite everything—

“No,” Karkat breathes. “No, no, no, no, no, no, NO!” He takes off, leaving the three alone. He races toward a thin pillar of black smoke a couple blocks ahead. He doesn’t even take the roads and cuts in between properties.

“Karkat, where are you going?!” Eridan shouts after him.

Nepeta knew that she couldn’t leave the highbloods alone in this neighborhood, so she briefly takes over guarding them as they make their way to Karkat’s shared hive. They follow Karkat quickly down the path he took.

There, at the source of the pillar was a smoldering pile of debris that was once a hive, and a single tall, thick pole in the middle, a Troll hanging by her neck about halfway down. Karkat stood staring at the Troll, not speaking. His face contorts, and Nepeta isn’t sure if it’s anger, pain, or both. His breaths get shorter as he chokes and lets out a strained cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter's title brought to you by: Josh Groban  
> Finally got this updated! I apologize if it's written weirdly. I'm trying to hurry this up. Bluh.


	3. Yo Ho, Yo Ho, You Are A Pir8te

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally updated this thing! Enjoy~

“Terezi!” That must be her name. “TEREZI!!” He punches the pole as hard as he can, cracking both it and the bones in his hand. The pole sways slightly with the force, the body swinging with it. “Fuck!” He removes his hand to reveal bright red blood, which is unheard of according to Nepeta’s personal knowledge.

She cautiously approaches, reaching her hand out. She hesitates, and Karkat collapses to his knees, chanting his matesprit’s name over and over. Instead, she curls her hand into a fist and withdraws it. Out of curiosity, she looks up and sees something very purrculiar.

Terezi was beautiful, Nepeta concluded. But there’s something scrawled on her face. She got Karkat’s attention.

“Karkat, look!” she says, pointing.

“What the hell do you want?!” he yells.

“Look!”

He does. “What, I don’t see… any…thing…” He squints his eyes. “No,” he says between gritted teeth. “He wouldn’t. He can’t. HE’S NOT _ALLOWED_!” Nepeta flinches at the sound of him hitting the pole again, this time splintering it some. She has had enough of all this pain  and sufurring! She springs into action.

“Please stop hurting yourself!” she cries, hugging him from behind.

“Let me go, you don’t understand!” Karkat yells, grabbing at her arms. It was no use; Nepeta’s strength training plus her experience with wild animals succeeding in keeping Karkat from getting infected and pawsibly dying. Not on her watch. She manages to subdue the hand that was trying to beat her away.

“No, Nepeta does understand!” she yells back. She’s fallen into her bad habit of referring herself in third person again. She swore never to do it in real life, but she didn’t know how else to say the words right now. “Nepeta lost her meowrail today! Twice! And she didn’t even get to give him a prroper goodbye!” Tears sting her eyes as she remembers not two hours ago.

He stops struggling.

“At first, he almost fell prey to some mind-controlling high pitch. He almost killed even Nepeta, his own moirail, a lowblood.”

Karkat relaxes a bit. “Nepeta, I…” He pauses, unsure what to say.

“Nepeta didn’t know what else to do, so she slapped him hard,” she continues. “She felt guilty, bringing him all the way out here to try to change his views, and then…” She chokes on the words. “He made Nepeta so purroud by going out of his way to purrotect someone he just met. He’s a big softie, under that ridiculous muscle.”

She glances up at Karkat to see that the distortion in his face had been replaced with melancholy. Feferi and Eridan stand flushed shoulder-to-shoulder, holding hands. Feferi has tears in her eyes and Eridan is looking away.

Karkat groans weakly. “Fine…” he whispers. He then grits his teeth and snarls. “But this isn’t over. This isn’t something I’m going to easily forget.”

What did Nepeta get herself into?

-

“So who’s this asshat?” Vriska asks her first m8te. Er, mate. Some stowaway found himself in her private stash last night. Now he’s tied to the steering wheel. This was a terrible idea. Like hell she’ll show it on her face. He doesn’t seem to realize the predicament he’s in, though, and it’s starting to annoy her.

“He has not said his name yet,” Kanaya answers. She’s been Vriska’s moirail since grubhood, and they’ve been running a tight-knit crew for barely a sweep. They haven’t been doing so well, and the rest of the crew knows it. Kanaya is keenly aware that they only follow Vriska because they’re being controlled. The only one she doesn’t control is Kanaya.

“Maybe he needs to be taught a lesson first,” Vriska sneers.

“Hey sis, what is _up_ on this wicked ship you call home?” Oh, _shit_. She barely recognized him without his paint.

Vriska facepalms with a loud slap. “In the brig!” she orders.

“Vriska, what—” Kanaya asks.

“In! The! Briiiiiiiig!” she yells. She storms away. She’ll figure out what to do with him later. She turns back. “And some shoosh papping! In my quarters! After you put him in the brig! I’ll be in my quarters!” Things have gotten complicated. _God d8mn it!_

“Aye, aye, captain,” Kanaya sighs. What even made her ever feel red for that blue-blooded troll in the first place? She is glad that her feelings have receded back to pale. And that Vriska never knew of them. “As for you, whoever-your-name-is—”

“Gamzee,” he corrects.

“Gamzee,” she repeats. “For whatever reason, Captain Spinneret has decided to put you in the brig to subject you to formal torture.”

His loopy grin falters. This does not faze her in the slightest.

“There is the small problem of transporting you.” She pauses to think. “I could always knock you out, that way—”

He mutters something too low for her to hear.

“What?”

“I SAID, YOU WON’T LAY A FINGER ON ME, BITCH!” he shouts. He stares at her with a mad grin.

Only slightly annoyed, Kanaya sighs and approaches him. He never breaks eye contact. As soon as she is close enough, she backhands him hard. “Don’t make get out my lipstick,” she warns.

The violence only seems to make him boil with rage. “Or what?” he asks. “YOU’LL MAKEUP ME TO DEATH?” He laughs maniacally, stomping his feet on the floorboards.

She reaches into her pants pocket and pulls out a tube of lipstick. She turns it, and it transforms into a giant chainsaw. Gamzee stares at it, wide-eyed.

“Motherfuckin’ miracles,” he mumbles. Instead of begging for his life, he simply smiles, coming down from him anger.

“Now hold still, I am going to sever your ties.” She revs it up and cleanly cuts the ropes, narrowly missing the wheel. He falls to the ground on his knees. “Thank you, sis.”

“You do not address me with such informalities,” she replies, putting her chainsaw away. “You are still a stowaway on this ship.” She bends down and yanks him up roughly by his arm.

“Ain’t you a little early to wax black for someone so high up the castes?” he teases. Kanaya doesn’t think it’s very funny.

“Ain’t you a little early to be this inebriated for someone to drag you around like a grub?” she counters. “And I don’t care what blood color you have, you are still trespassing.”

“I’m sorry,” he says after he is dragged down the stairs to the deck below.

“I don’t care,” she says. Only two more decks to go.

“This brother lost his kismesis today. I guess I’m all just bent out of shape about it.”

She wants to ask, but holds her tongue. Her ashen feelings suddenly aflutter. He clumsily slips on the second set of stairs. She decides to quench her curiosity and interrogate him now. “Where was your auspistice?” Now he is a common murderer, in addition to his encroachment.

“Shoot, we didn’t need one.” He pauses. “Man, it’s complicated.”

“I am a natural meddler.”

“I still don’t wanna talk about it.”

She stops and gets in his face. “Fine, but if you don’t tell me now, you will be subject to the captain’s devices.” She leads him down the final set of stairs, where the brig awaits, damp and dark with only a small fake torch alight. Vriska was all for authentication, but not ready to set her ship on fire, especially when it hasn’t even left port on its maiden voyage yet. “You will stay here until we call upon a threshecutioner.”

The fear then sets in. “Motherfucker, you can’t do that. I got their _secrets_.” He points to the side of his head with his free hand. She tosses him in and he stumbles into the bench. He scrambles up as she locks the door tight. He pulls himself up by the bars.

“Tell them to Vriska.” Kanaya turns to the entrance portal and opens the door.

“No, you don’t understand! The secrets of all that we know of life and why we’re still here. And all the death. And all the miracles that is Alternia! It’s all in my thinkpan…”

“Oh boy, Alternian secrets!” she exclaims excitedly.

“DON’T YOU DARE MOCK MY INTENTIONS WITH YOUR SARCASM,” he bellows.

“Darn,” she mutters just loud enough for him to hear. “I’m afraid that I cannot help you. I have previous engagements.”

Then the wailing begins, rattling against the bars to no avail. Vriska built them herself, and the brig itself made to withstand the imprisonment of multiple lusii at the same time.

“I sincerely apologize, highblood, but I have a moirail to console because of you. Now if you’ll excuse me,” she says as she slams the door shut and locks it.

Someone applauds from behind. Startled, she turns, to see a younger Troll. “Vell done, Kanaya. Did you know that you have the makings for an excellent kismesis yourself?” He smirks, leaning against the corridor with his elbow and wiggling his eyebrows. She would really wish he’d stop. He’s only four sweeps old.

She rolls her eyes. “Cronus, please do not talk to me.”

“Can I talk to him then?”

“No. You will not go near him. He is a stowaway.”

“You’re no fun at all.”

“Neither is your blatant disregard for this ship’s laws. Go back to your quarters at once,” she orders. “You are not on duty.”

“Aye, aye, madam.” He salutes and skulks off.

Kanaya Maryam  
Age: 9 sweeps  
Occupation: Part-time Grubsitter, Full-time First M8te  
Blood Caste: Jade  
Legacy: The One That Will Save the Trollian Race from Utter Extinction

-

Vriska Serket, a.k.a. Captain Mindfang Spinneret  
Age: 9 ½ sweeps  
Occupation: Pir8te Captain  
Blood Caste: Cerulean  
Legacy: Professional Pir8te

Hello?! This professional pirate needs some professional papping before she burns her own ship down! Or before she gets into a situation where she gets her _other_ arm ripped off. She refuses to talk about this.

Vriska Serket was completely emotional. She didn’t expect to see Gamzee again, especially without his face paint. She thought he was utterly devoted to his silly clown religion. Well, it serves him right. Serves him motherfuckin’ right.

“Damn it!” she shouts, slamming her fist down on her wooden desk. The metal hand bends slightly and makes the wood crack and splinter. Since she felt no pain in that entire arm, it didn’t make her feel any better. She really needs to forget these feelings ever existed.

What did Terezi ever see in that asshole anyway? He’s lazy, rude, and not to mention really gross. He needs to leave before they take off, since she can’t afford to feed his addiction of slime on a ship with so many crew members needing their own amounts to sleep in. She calculated the perfect doses for each of them to be distributed equally, and then repurposed and recycled in a device to use again. She also built the machine herself. It’s nowhere near the doomsday machines she built in her younger days (a dangerous pasttime). If any were to disappear, it would be inconvenient, mainly for Vriska because she saved the most for herself. Terezi just had bad taste in men, including her mutant boyfriend.

Dusting off the wounded furniture, she sighs and straightens up her eight-sided-dice that had been displayed in a perfect roll: all eights. Just like her quarters. Eight sides. Her ship. Eight sections: The top deck, the captain’s quarters, the first mate’s quarters, the brig, the slime room, the consumption room, the poop deck, and the secret stash room. That last room is for contrabands only. Kanaya requested to keep her own stash in there, and refuses to reveal what it is. Lousy stupid moirail keeping secrets. She hoped that Kanaya did some preliminary questioning before—

“FUCK! YOU!” she yells into the air. She opens her drawer hastily and pulls out an eight-ball with her good hand. “How dare you steal my black crush when I told you,” she rears her arm back, “IN CONFIDENCE!” _Smash!_ She throws the ball as hard as she can, and it shatters against the wall, spilling blue water on the wall and the nearest rug.

“Captain!” Kanaya yells from behind.

“What?!” Vriska yells back.

“In your pile!” she barks. How dare she!

“Why, you—!”

“Pile! Now!” She points to the pile of pillows, provided by Kanaya. No one will ever know of this.

“Fine.” Vriska plops into the pile, scattering some of them, and Kanaya gently sits next to her. She remains vigilant and crosses her arms.

“Come on, you asked for this.” Kanaya opens her arms and raises her brows.

Vriska squints her eyes.

“Don’t force me.”

She continues to squint her eyes.

Through a forced smile and gritted teeth, Kanaya says, “This is what they call forcing, yes?”

As she leans toward Vriska with open arms, she leans away. “Every time we do this, and what does it accomplish?”

“It helps, so just shut up and take it!” Kanaya is getting sick of this volatile behavior.

“Stop it!” Vriska pushes the approaching arm.

“Stop resisting!” Kanaya is halfway there, despite the shoving.

“No! No, no, no, no, no, no, no!” Vriska has no more pile left on her side. She’s trapped.

“There!” Kanaya says, finally embracing the blue-blood and immediately dives into her papping regimen. The blue-blood stops squirming. “Was that so bad?”

Vriska is silent. After her breathing calms down, she uncrosses her arms. “Is this the part where I tell you why I freaked out?”

“Is that not the point of this act?”

More silence. Then, “You’ve probably figured out that I knew him. He used to be this super-religious freak who painted his face. One of those subjuggalo guys.” She didn’t bother to make sure Kanaya was listening. “One time, we got really drunk and started getting really personal. I let it slip that I had a small black crush on one of my old FLARP friends. Well, I didn’t exactly know that his mutated moirail knew her, so they kind of knew each other by association already. And then he just… took her from me! I don’t know what happened between them, but we could have had a thing, you know?”

“Is this the same girl who you were close to? Terezi?”

“Yeah, she’s really sharp, even though she’s blind. She could do everything better than me back then! I got pissed and blinded her! Among other things…” She sighs exasperatedly. “I’m done sharing. Did you interrogate him?”

Kanaya doesn’t answer.

“Hello? Alternia to Kanaya!”

“I’m here, stop that. I’m just thinking.”

“Must be something important. Just spit it out!”

“Uhm… well… He told me something. There was a lot of yelling, and I got some answers, but you’re not going to like one.”

“I’ve just been shoosh-papped. I think I can take another round of bad feelings.”

“He said he went a little crazy because he lost someone.”

Vriska’s breath hitches.

“He said it was his kismesis.”

Actual tears? No, not yet. She’ll have to wait until Kanaya isn’t around.

“Is it correct to assume that he was talking about your friend?”

Karkat must be devastated. As far as she knew, having him be in that dangerous trio was both convenient and sad.

“I think it is fair to assume that Gamzee killed her.”

Vriska laughs boisterously. “Fat chance!”

“How so?”

“First, Terezi wouldn’t let that happen, she’d kill him first; and second, Gamzee was fucking grateful to have someone as even-tempered as her for a kismesis! Believe me, I tried to feel ashen for them, but they didn’t need me at all!” She was so loyal, too. Kanaya needs to leave so Vriska can cry where no one can hear. “Well, I’m done for today, and I need a nap! We sail at dawn, so make sure to write me a complete report!”

“What about Gamzee?”

“What _about_ Gamzee? He can starve for all I care.”

“Starve?” Oh yeah, she doesn’t know about the slime.

“Don’t give him any slime under any circumstances, even if he’s tired.”

Kanaya puts her mouth into a hard line. She understands now. “Aye, aye…” She puts her arms up and lets Vriska out of the pile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter's title brought to you by: Lazytown and Pirates of the Caribbean


	4. If We Die Young...

“Eridan, it’s almost daylight!” Feferi whispers. They’ve been traveling all night, and might need to travel all day. Karkat doesn’t show any signs of stopping, and newcomer Nepeta can probably go a few more days. But Feferi’s feet are starting to hurt quite a lot. She’s more used to swimming than walking. Her suit is starting to stick as well.

“I know, I just need to get us to the port,” he whispers back. “My ex-kismesis liws there. Maybe she has a boat that’ll leaw soon. If she’s there at all.”

“Are you fucking—Eridan we are _not_ going to Vriska!” Karkat protests. “The last thing Feferi’s campaign needs is to have associations with a pirate!”

“Actually Karkat, I—” Feferi is interrupted by Eridan suddenly stopping the group. The small port town doesn’t look too bad, she concludes. It’s only a cluster of smallish buildings and a mass collection of docks. There were more piers than buildings. They hid behind a sand dune outside of town.

“Eridan, this is the stupidest idea you have ever come up with, and you are a clusterfuck of stupid ideas.”

“Just shut up a minute, these towns are fiercely guarded by—” He cut himself off. “Where’s the cat girl?”

Everyone looks around for Nepeta. “Oh my cod!” Feferi whispers, pointing down to the shore. Nepeta was being led away towards one of the bigger boats by someone carrying a fish.

“What does she think she’s doing?” Karkat grumbles. He gets up to follow her. Eridan goes after him, taking your hand.

The mysterious figure was fast if he got her so far away in so little time. Whoever it is was going towards a secret entrance on the biggest boat on the farthest pier.

“Oh, no you don’t!” Karkat yells, whipping out his sickle. He throws it just before the wooden door closes, jamming it. “Yes!”

Both he and Eridan pry the door open with a loud creak. Inside is pitch dark. Karkat reaches up and grabs his weapon before charging in himself. There is a yell and a slew of curses, sending Feferi and Eridan rushing in to help. Immediately after, the door slams shut behind them, leaving them in complete darkness.

-

“Intruder alert! Intruder alerrrrt!” a young troll shrieks through the corridors outside the captain’s quarters. He loudly bangs on the door with both fists. “Captain, open the fuck up!” More banging.

The door flies open. Captain Vriska Mindfang Spinneret is not pleased. “Damn it, Mituna, what now?!”

“There ith! An intruder! In the brig!” he pants.

She closes her eyes, putting her hand on her forehead. “Mituna, we’ve been over this. Twice since yesterday. That’s only Gamzee. He’s our _prisoner_.”

“But I heard the yelling of a different kind of voith! Down! Deep down!” he points where he came.

“You’re four sweeps, not pan-damaged, so I know you know how to follow orders. Go back to the sleeping quarters until we leave port!”

“We’ve been here three weekth.”

“You’re going to suffer for that backsass, little boy.”

Mituna screams in frustration, flailing his arms. “‘Tula told me you’re waiting for your matethprit! But you don’t have a matethprit, you’re old!”

“Excuse me?!” she yells. “Do I need to take you to your ancestor?”

“He’th not my antheth-tor!” he screams, kicking her in the shin.

“Ow!” He runs off. She chases him. “Get back here, you little shit!”

Mituna giggles, running for where he found the intruders. Cronus is so going get in trouble! He saw the stupid seadweller sneak away and lead the enemy back to the ship. He runs faster than the captain, so he gets there first. He unlatches the heavy door just as she gains on him. He jumps up to switch the torch on, since she keeps the prisoners in the dark. Yes, they’re still there! Cronus is nowhere to be found. Fuckin’ dammit!

“I told you not to engage with the prisoners!” she roars.

And suddenly, the world is full of spiders.

“Mituna, you will go to the sleeping quarters.”

“I will go to the sleeping quarters,” he replies robotically.

“Now!”

“Aye, captain!” he salutes and takes off. It isn’t until he gets back when the mind connection is broken off and you are back in your girlfriend’s arms.

“Oh, ‘Tuna, I told you not to go telling people about my rad skills,” Latula whispers, stroking his hair. He’s laying down on the floor, his head cradled in her lap. It’s his favorite spot in the world.

“Cronuth wath being bad, tho I thent him to hith doom,” he said, smiling. He curls up on his side and smiles, too tired to get up.

“Promise me you won’t do it again!” she pleas. She stops and nudges him with both hands.

“Okay, okay!” he answers, swaying like a wet noodle. “I’m thorry.”

“Thanks, my Tuna!” She hugs him around his head.

-

“Eridan, what the hell are you doing here?” Vriska deadpans. This was unexpected.

“It’s a long fucking story, so don’t ask,” Karkat states bluntly, stepping in front of her ex and his moirail.

“I didn’t ask you, Krabby-Panties,” she fires back. Calmly, she asks again. “Answer my question, Eridan. What are you doing here?”

“Well, it’s a long story, er…” Eridan trails off, muttering tiny details.

“What? I didn’t hear you. Speak up!” she orders, using her sevenfold. This is why she broke up with him. He had no entrails.

“We’re on the run from subjugglators and we need to get to safety. Feferi is trying to change the political spectrum and something triggered the crowd to attack us. We’ve been walking all night to get here. One of our comrades was baited to this ship, so we followed her and here we are.” Eridan shakes his head violently. “What was that for?!” he shouts.

Vriska shrugs. “Maybe because you were being a scared little ninny and weren’t going to tell me a thing.”

“Why, you—!”

“Eridan, ssh,” Feferi interrupts. Always the good little girl. Typical. Changing the politics is a stupid idea anyway. He backs down and she takes his hand.

“Well, I don’t particularly like politics, so I need you to leave.” She pauses. “How did you get on my ship in the first place?”

“I think it’s our turn to ask a question!” Karkat steps up, getting in her face. “Where’s Nepeta?”

Vriska raises her eyebrows. “Who?”

“Nepeta!” he repeats. “She’s a short cat-troll with claws and a bad haircut!”

“Cat-troll?” She frowns. “We have one of those, but she has long hair.”

“Well, take us to her! Maybe she changed while she was out!” He makes a fist and readies his weapon.

She responds in a defensive pose, crossing her arms and puffing out her chest. “Doubtful. Our cat-troll hasn’t left the ship in days.”

“How do you know?” he says through gritted teeth.

“Because she’s four sweeps old. Besides, she’s been in the crow’s nest for the past few days and refuses to come down for her fear of heights.”

Dumbfounded, Karkat drops his jaw. He doesn’t look like he’s breathing, so Vriska punches him in the gut. He immediately doubles over with an unflattering yelp and she catches him by the collar to pull him back up.

“Any more questions?” she breathes into his face.

He grunts out a weak no.

“My turn again.” She throws him to Eridan, who lets go of Feferi’s hand. She saunters towards the highblood. “How did you get in again?”

“There’s a secret entrance over there,” she answers, pointing. Sure enough, there is a square of light, an obvious outline of a hidden door. She narrows her eyes at the new secret passage. She is going to have a little talk with the engineer if she ever sees her sorry face again.

“Thank you, Feferi. At least _someone_ has a little respect for authority around here.” She shoots a look at Karkat, who glowers back.

“Well, is there any way we can look around for her?” she asks. “We’ll leave as soon as we find her!”

“Not at this time of day you won’t,” Vriska counters. “The sun has risen and all of us need some sleep.” She closes her eyes, cracking her neck. “I’m willing to let you stay until you find your comrade, but you have to leave the following sunset. I’m not willing to risk my ship and its crew for the greater good.” She turns on her heel to leave.

“Thank you, Vriska! I mean, captain!” Feferi thanks her, saluting enthusiastically. “Come on, let’s go!”

Vriska immediately about-faces. “Oh no you don’t,” she laughs, putting her arm out to them. “I like you, Feferi, but we just have no room for the three of you yet. You’ll have to stay in the brig. I won’t lock the cages or anything, though, so you’re welcome.”

“That’s not fair!” Karkat shouts, apparently reenergized.

“Letting you stay without punishment is fair enough.” Vriska pauses, thinking. “Although I do admit that it wasn’t a good idea to not install recuperacoons in here. Or was it? See you later!” She smiles innocently.

“You bit—!” Karkat lunges, weapon drawn.

“Hey, who’s the captain here?!” Vriska yells, easily dodging his curved weapon and knocking it out of his hand. She snatches his arm and shoves him forward, pulling his arm back. He screams in pain as she pushes him to the ground. “Not you, me! Captain Mindfang Spinneret! You will address me as ‘captain’ or ‘Captain Mindfang Spinneret’!”

She stand up, letting him go, and he scrambles for his weapon again. He won’t attack her now that she has established her superiority.

“And since I’m such a reasonable pirate, I’ll leave the torch on.” She opens the door and steps out, but not before she adds, “Oh, and watch out for Gamzee, he’s around here somewhere! Toodles!” She slams the door shut and padlocks it.

“Good morning, captain!” an annoying voice rings. “I hope you aren’t treating the prisoners too terribly. It must be frustrating to not be without their slime for so long.”

Vriska bends down to the smallish troll’s level, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Aranea, I need you to do me a favor. There’s a cat-troll on this ship who isn’t Meulin. Have you seen her?”

“Well, yes!” she chirps. “I saw Cronus carrying a fishing rod being chased by a cat-troll in a blue hat and claws. She had on the strangest outfit! It looked like it had been in some skirmishes with ferocious beasts! Poor Cronus was scared for his life, though. He kept saying, ‘Go av-way, this is my fish!’ and then she pounced on him. I ran away before she could rip it from him.”

Vriska face-palmed. That moron was out fishing _again?_ “Lead me to them.”

“Aye, aye!”

-

Sollux Captor  
Age: 8 ½ sweeps  
Occupation: Hacker  
Blood Caste: Mustard  
Legacy: ~~a thilly lithp!aa 2top that~~ The One Who Actually Saves The Day

Aradia Megido  
Age: 8 sweeps  
Occupation: Clock maker  
Blood Caste: Rust  
Legacy: Collateral Damage

“Hey, AA, have you stheen TV?” Sollux asks Aradia as he approaches her kiosk. She sells the best time-keepers in their small port town, and repairs the clock tower on the side. Her kiosk is right by the docks, so she can get more business to trolls passing through. She doesn’t get much business since her caste is so low, but that’s completely fine with her. She gets to live in the clock tower with her matesprit, even though it gets noisy from time to time.

“Not since last week, no,” she answers worriedly. She hasn’t seen her moirail in quite some time. He’s been traveling around on his new flying contraption for whatever reason. He usually has the courtesy to send a message over Trollian, but he hasn’t signed on in days.

“Well, it’s almoth thunrise, stho we need to get back to our hive,” Sollux says, his eyes darting back and forth. He leans in to whisper, “Code red.”

She tries not to look fearful, but she does hitch her breath. She nods once in confirmation, closing her eyes. She plasters a smile on her face and gives him a peck on the cheek.

They work together to close down the kiosk, pulling the curtains over the counters and tying them down with rope. Lastly, they shorten the poles and take down the banner that reads “From Ruins to Wonders” on it. The whole premise of her business was to raid ruins, fix up the antiques, and sell them for profit. Sometimes they would go together, but most of the time, Aradia would go by herself. She liked it that way.

They walk hand-in-hand to their hive, which is in the center of town, maybe five minutes on foot. Their conversation would fool anyone into thinking it was lively, even though it’s anything but.

“I grabbed a copy of Troll New England News while I wath out today,” he says, smiling.

She giggles. “Oh no, what happened?”

“Two trollth were hanged for treathson againth the Empreth.” He’s losing his face.

Aradia smiles and nudges him, bopping him on the nose with her fingertip.

Sollux forces out a smile and nudges back. “One wasth two nights ago, and it wath TZ.”

Aradia gasps dramatically, finding it difficult to force a smile herself. Terezi was a childhood friend and Aradia’s confidant. It took her everything she had to ask Terezi’s permission to date her moirail, and when she gave the blessing, she even helped organize their first date. Aradia owes her a lot, and now she won’t be able to repay her.

Sollux grips her hand tightly. “I should have known it wasn’t a good idea for her to be tho far away, I just knew it!” He forces a smile and continues. “Then lasth night, TV wath shot down and histh dithability was dithcovered. One thing led to another and he got himself arethted.” He sighs dreamily, gazing up at the approaching tower. “They questioned him for hourth before threatening to push him into the thun if he didn’t tell them where the weaponth were being manufactured.”

Aradia leans against his shoulder as they walk, also staring up at the tower. “The news loves its corruption, huh?”

“No joke there.”

“What did he say?”

“The newth said it was thomewhere in Troll Canada, but they weren’t specific.”

She sighs with relief, putting a hand on her chest. “Thank god.” Tavros was smart enough to send the subjugglators in the opposite direction. She felt the tears well up in her eyes, but had to resist wiping them until they were out of sight.

“But you do know what this meansth, right?”

“I don’t…”

“It meansth we have to run.”

Finally, they get to the side door of the tower. He takes out his key and opens the passage leading into a dark tunnel. He leads her down first and then himself, locking the door securely behind them. They rush to their abode and don’t even bother turning on any lights.

In a matter of seconds, their facades are broken down and they mourn for their moirails. They collapse into each other’s arms, bending at the knees until they lose their balance and crumble to the ground. Neither could care less if the other seemed out of character for such extreme emotions. Their sadness was quickly resolving to hatred, and the raw desire to kill whoever was responsible.

“We h-have to warn Vriska,” Aradia stammers through sobs. “Sh-she’s Tavros’ mates-s-sprit.”

“Oh god, not that bitch,” Sollux scoffs. He inhales through his snout and lets it out his mouth. “But you’re right.” He struggles to stand up, lifting her up. “We need to pool our earningth and the motht valuable thingth we own.”

She nods in agreement. “I’ll get started upstairs, in the treasure room.”

“Meet me downstairth in twenty. I have justh the technology to get uth out of here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter's title brought to you by: The Band Perry  
> Okay, so I finally go this chapter done. Next time I'll have some splainin' to do.  
> Also Aradia and Sollux! Yay! Finally!


	5. 4 Minutes, Thirteen Seconds

Gamzee MOTHERFUCKING Makara  
Age: 10 sWeEpS  
Occupation: FoRmEr sUbJuGgLaToR  
Blood Caste: purple  
Legacy: MIRACLES

The best thing about being in the dark? COMPLETE DARKNESS. There’s no one between a troll and their thoughts.

Some rude brothers woke him up from his nap. The torch is on, too. He’d been on the ship for so long, he’d lost track of the days and nights. How long had it been since he was even fed or saw a drop of slime? No matter. Nothing matters anymore.

They’re all going to die.

Wait a sec.

One of them is very familiar. Is that his on-again-off-again moirail?

“What the ever-loving fuck is Gamzee doing aboard?” Karkat wonders aloud. Gamzee smiles to himself and walks to the bars separating them. He wraps his fingers around the bars next to his face.

“Well if it ain’t my on-again-off-again moirail,” he chuckles. “How you motherfuckin’ been?”

Karkat doesn’t hesitate to shove the other troll aside (Eridan? So much nostalgia.) and storm over to the bars.

“I didn’t know you missed me that mu—” Karkat snatches his collar and punches him through the bars. He barely felt it.

“Karkat, stop!” Feferi pleads. Aw, how sweet.

“Listen here, you son of a shit-eating grubhole!” he shouts in Gamzee’s face. “I know we haven’t been very consistent with each other, and I know that our jobs separate our values, but that doesn’t give you the right to disobey the simplest laws our shitty culture!”

“What are you talking about, bro?”

“Not what; _she!_ ”

Gamzee blinks.

“Terezi!” Karkat yells, yanking Gamzee’s head against the bars.

“Motherfuck,” Gamzee mutters, reaching up to the throbbing lump on his forehead. He definitely felt that. It’s wet with blood. Not again.

“I know you’re in that militaristic religious cult now, and that’s your choice, but don’t get Terezi involved!” There are tears in his eyes.

“Speaking of that red-eyed beauty, where is she?” Gamzee asks, looking over at the other two trolls.

“How dare you!” Karkat shakes him. “You killed her, you sack of shit! Your stupid smile face was carved onto hers! You left her hanging unceremoniously in the ruins of our hive!” He’s going to get throat-sickness if he shouts any more.

Gamzee chuckles again. “Nah, I can’t kill her. She’d kill me. Besides, I—”

“DON’T LIE TO MY FACE!”

“Karkat, I think he’s tellin’ the truth,” Eridan interrupts, putting a hand on Karkat’s shoulder. “He has that weird look in his eye.”

“Why don’t you mind your own business, _Eridan?!_ This is between me and him!”

“Why don’t you get out of my face, Karkat?” Gamzee snarls. “I HAVEN’T LEFT THIS BOAT IN A WEEK!” he shouts. He then whispers, “And I’d surely remember killing off my own quadrants.”

Karkat quints.

Gamzee glares back.

Karkat lets him go and goes to an empty cell. He slams the door shut with a loud clang and sits in the corner, facing away from the rest.

“Gamzee, what _are_ you doing here?” Feferi asks calmly, approaching the cage. He looks up to see her smiling. So motherfucking sweet. “On Vriska’s ship, I mean.”

“It’s a long motherfucking story, sis,” he replies normally. He takes a deep breath and sits where he stood. Feferi does the same. She motions Eridan to sit next to her wordlessly.

“We have time,” she says, smiling.

He shifts his eyes from side to side. The motion was useless. There were no windows, but no one knows who is lurking. “It all started a month ago…” A necessary flashback.

-

Gamzee wandered through the halls of his past. All the doors were the same as his subjuggulator training days, but the tiles on the floor changed from beige to green. Someone wasn’t doing their job, which was mopping up the kills.

He was the top of the class when he graduated. He had the best teacher. Her name was Helter Sketor, but all the others called her “The Professor”. Even though she was a caste just lower that him, she taught him things he never will ever forget. He climbed the ladder until he was right below her level before she was transferred to the purple moon to help commence and build new conquests on the inhabitants there. But she gave him a key to her secret chamber to a secret lab of secrets. She told him that she trusted him with this new information and that he was going to keep the fact that he knew a secret until he reached her level.

Of course, what troll wouldn’t be interested in that? Maybe it was the secret ingredient in slime. Nobody knew what was in it, but it was damn motherfucking delish.

He approached the secret chamber to the secret lab of secrets, twirling the key on its tiny chain. He opened the door. He entered the secret lab of secrets. He frowned. It wasn’t a lab, it was just a megacomputer. He shrugged and sat on the chair provided.

“Now let’s see what the big secrets are,” he wondered aloud. He put on the headphones and clicked the button that said, “ALL the secrets”.

The screen flashed blue and red for a few seconds. Gamzee blinked, mesmerized. Then all at once, images started to appear. Handcuffs that looked like Karbro’s sign. Rust. Orange. Mustard. Lime. Olive. Jade. Teal. Cerulean. Indigo. Purple. Violet. Fuchsia. Then all of them connected in a circle. An animation broke the circle between rust and fuchsia and turned it into a vertical line, fuchsia being at the top and rust at the bottom.

The history continued on for generations. All of the dirty secrets of society were being revealed in the span of a few seconds. The flow of images slowed to around 35 solar sweeps ago. The empress’ farewell voyage. It was taught that she went to explore a planet that was discovered in a faraway solar system that was said to have life, but didn’t, so she had returned. But the images showed different. It showed panic among the seadwellers, then an eerie calm. It showed propaganda that the empress was gone forever, never to return. Gl’bgolyb had chosen many new wards, and it showed their faces one-by-one, the last being Feferi.

Where was the empress? Gamzee wanted to figure it out, explore more, but additional information clouded his mind.

The Grand Highblood of old returned, only to take the place on the throne of the empress where she sat when she felt like coming on land to cull here, rule there, etc. He declared many things. He created secret police factions. One of those factions being Gamzee’s current job.

One thing was clear in this subliminal overload, and that was there is no empress, and the subjuggulators rule.

Finally, the video came to a close at the last legislation written before the highblood was replaced: Every troll that is branded a traitor will be executed, as well as their immediate quadrants. He slammed his club down against the keyboard, smashing it to bits in one blow. The computer shut itself down.

-

“But what about you?” Feferi asks. “Aren’t you in Terezi’s immediate quadrant? Why weren’t you killed?”

“I wasn’t the reason she died,” Gamzee says, looking down. “It’s Karkat.”

“What the fuck?!” Karkat responds, twisting around from his spot. He hadn’t moved since Gamzee was telling the story.

“Let him finish!” Feferi says.

“It was Karkat who was branded the traitor,” Gamzee reiterates. “And you, Eridan. And you Feferi. All of you. Your campaign worked, but in all the wrong spaces. I was safe for a bit. But now I’m not.”

“Why not?”

“Because I know all their muthafuckin’ secrets!” He points to his thinkpan. “It’s ready to explode up in here! I’m not at the right clearance to be knowing this biz. The computer I broke sent a message to the big ones and they came after me. I’ve just been running, that’s all.” He smiles, finished with his story.

“I fucking _knew it!_ ” Karkat yells, kicking at a bar. He recoils with a yelp of pain and curls on the ground.

“These bars were made for lusii,” Gamzee sings, referencing an old musical tune. It had been used lots of times, but he was referencing the one about footwear.

“Do you think…?” Eridan asks.

“Of course!” Karkat intercedes, still writhing in pain. “If it weren’t for that damn book of my ancestor’s, none of this bullshit would have happened! I should have burned it when I had the chance!”

Feferi swallows uncomfortably. “I have a confession to make,” she whispers. She draws her knees under her chin. “I owe Vriska an apology, too.”

“Why? You just got here!”

“It’s more than that.” She glances at Eridan, who cocks his head in response.

She takes a deep breath, but is interrupted by Vriska barging in, Nepeta dragging behind.

“I found your companion,” she says. “As soon as the sun goes down, leave.”

“Vriska, do you have a minute?” Feferi asks.

“Sure, why not?” She sits next to Feferi on the floor.

“It’s not a good minute.” She fiddles with her tattered shirt. “It’s about Tavros.”

Gamzee looks at Vriska’s scrunching eyebrows, then Feferi's guilty face. This is going to be muthafuckin’ _good._

-

Vriska couldn’t believe her ears.

Feferi and…

Tavros?

Together?

As in........ matesprits?

It all made sense now.

“I’m going ashore, Vriska.”

“I’m taking all my stuff.”

“Please don’t miss me. I need to go.”

“I don’t like being a pirate.”

But what about all the times they spent together? And if he didn’t want to be a pirate, why didn’t he just say so earlier on? He could have been a deck swabbie or something!

Of course, Eridan is beside himself. How come he didn’t know about this, When did it start, Did you two actually do the thing, bluh, bluh, bluh. Their noise fades away as Vriska retreats into her thoughts.

-

Wait a bulge-licking minute… When was Feferi going to tell Karkat about this?! It certainly would have helped if he knew that she had a matesprit who was his friend! Not to mention it would have aided in her campaign. Some things can’t be helped.

His main concern is that since she never even mentioned it to her moirail, then she never officially registered their relationship through the proper channels. And judging by Vriska’s reaction, rather a lack of one, Tavros never really broke it off officially, either. Karkat almost wants to go pap Vriska’s face or something, since it’s so out of character for her to act like this, but he refuses to give in to being a cheap pale whore. He harrumphs and crosses his arms instead.

“I smell honey,” Nepeta pipes up. Holy shit, he forgot she was even there. “I don’t like honey. It makes my fur all sticky.” She rubs her paw—HAND along her arm, probably reminiscing.

“I don’t smell anyfin,” Eridan says. “That’s also really random, weird cat girl.”

“My name is Nepeta! And I do smell it! A lot of it! Like an explosion of it!” She sniffs the air. “It’s outside.”

“Vriska, I think we need to check this out,” Karkat says, putting a hand on Vriska’s shoulder. No reaction. He shakes it.

“What?!” she yells.

“Is there any way to look outside to see what’s going on?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Nepeta smells honey. A lot of it.”

She shoots a confused look at the cat-troll. “Honey? What are you… Hang on.” She stands up quickly and rushes out, leaving the door ajar. The rest, save Gamzee, follow her.

They follow her up to the next level, where there is one porthole, and she’s looking through a telescope. The sun shines through the circular window, leaving a crescent shape on the floor.

“Damn it, Sollux, why now?” Vriska mutters under her breath. “Today just sucks.” She turns away, retracting the device. She heads straight for what looks like the sleeping quarters for the crew and violently rings a bell mounted next to the entryway. “Rise and shine, mateys! We gotta bounce!”

Suddenly, the door swings open and slams against the wall, and a bunch of _very_ young trolls swarm out of it. Are they her crew? They all look the same age. If Karkat hadn’t seen this in movies, he would have been very disturbed indeed. Legally, at the age of five sweeps, a troll can start earning their own money, but this is clearly grubnapping. No wonder Vriska is so assertive, she has damn _children_ running her ship!

“Vriska, what’s all the commotion?” yawns a green-clad troll. She looks like she just woke up, but she still retains a pulchritudinous air. Karkat knows her from someplace, but can’t put his finger on exactly where.

“Oh good, you’re up,” Vriska says, approaching her. “Sollux is joining us soon. He’s going to have to explain why he blew up his hive in broad daylight, though.”

The mysterious troll raises an eyebrow. “Why do you suddenly care for him now?”

“We made a deal. Well, I made a deal and he just kind of… agreed to it.”

“Seriously?” She sighs. “Fine, I’ll lower the bridge for him.”

“Good!” Vriska charges back down to the brig and the other troll goes up. Meanwhile, the crew dodges the adult trolls and go every-which-way, most likely to their posts.

“Sis, where are you taking me?” Karkat turns to see Gamzee being dragged up the stairs.

“I’m putting you to work!” She grabs Karkat as well. “You, too, Krabby-Panties!”

“Fuck no! I’m not going anywhere near the top deck! I’ll burn to a crisp!”

“No you won’t, we’ve got a sun-block!” She snickers. “It’s really epic, you’ll see!”

Karkat struggles until they get to the top of the stairs, right below the doors to the top deck. He didn’t imagine going out like this. He fantasized about dying in battle plenty of times before all this bullshit happened, but now he hasn’t imagined it at all, simply because he had tasks to accomplish first.

Vriska lets go of Gamzee and bangs her fist at a wooden panel. It opens to reveal an eye scanner. It scans her eye and approves access. A large button opens up below the panel. She pushes it.

The ship rumbles and shakes, causing Karkat and Gamzee to lose their balance. Vriska is steady as a rock. Finally, it stops and she opens both door simultaneously. Instead of bright sunlight, there is a shaded octagon dome covering the top of the ship. It’s still hot, but it doesn’t burn Karkat’s skin on contact like it usually does. He could probably take a few hours of this.

“Kanaya, do you see him?” Vriska calls. So her name is Kanaya.

“Aye, captain!” she replies. “There is a large, slow-moving wave of mind honey flooding the town, and it will engulf it in approximately two hours. And he has Aradia with him.”

“Are you sure?”

“I recognize her flowing locks even at this distance.” Karkat has no idea who these people are.

“The bridge is lowered?”

“Yes, captain.”

“Good. Let them both aboard when they arrive.” She drags the male trolls to the wheel. “Karkat, you will be my navigator.”

“Now wait just a godda—”

“Gamzee, go get the other cat-troll from the crow’s nest. The only other troll she’ll listen to has other business to take attend to, and you kind of look like him, so she should listen to you. It’s mutiny to let her disobey orders when the time finally calls for it. I need all the hands I can get.” She takes hold of the wheel as he scrambles up the mast without a word.

“I didn’t ask for this!”

“Neither did I! But you might as well make yourself useful while you’re still alive.”

“I still don’t—”

“Captain!” Kanaya shouts from the edge of the ship. “We have a problem!”

“What is it now?!” she yells.

“Subjuggulators! Nearly a hundred of them just outside of town.”

“Captain!” an entirely different voice calls from above. Both Karkat and Vriska look up to see Gamzee carrying a tiny, long-haired Nepeta in a skirt pointing out to the water. “Subjuggl’tors!” They follow her pointing, and sure enough, ships all sporting the purple sign of the Grand Highblood approaches. Strangely enough, it’s the same sign as Gamzee’s sign. He vaguely wonders if there’s a relation. They need to get out of here, fast.

“We may need to make a choice,” Kanaya says fervently. She motions to Sollux and Aradia or whoever.

“No choice! We wait!” Vriska barks. “Sollux is an ass, but as you said, we need everyone we can to make the thing work, right?”

Kanaya doesn’t respond. Karkat squints his eyes. What are they planning?

Finally, the bridge is lowered and two trolls phase right through the barrier. They’re both wearing heavy protective gear, and one has a copious amount of fluffy hair sticking out of the back. They both collapse on their hands and knees on the deck while Kanaya brings the bridge back up.

“Sollux, engage!” Vriska yells. Immediately, Sollux rips off his headgear and red and blue sparks fly from his eyes. In no time at all, the entire ship is engulfed in red and blue lightning, lifting it out of the water. “Everyone else, hang on to whatever’s handy! The honey will only slow down half of our enemies! Karkat!”

“What?!”

“You’re my navigator, tell me where to go!”

Without thinking, he shouts, “Up!”

“Up it is, then!” She turns the wheel towards the town. “Sollux, go!”

Sollux complies, but not without strained cries. Karkat struggles to hang on to much of anything besides the railings around the main mast.

Vriska grips the wheel tightly. “Horuss, hide the ship! Mituna, get your ass up here and assist Sollux! Latula, guard our helmsmen!” Can they even hear her from up here with all this noise? “Let’s get off this damn planet once and for all!”

Wait, WHAT?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter's title brought to you by: John Cage  
> Intermission 1 is next! I'm so excited to get this part done!


	6. Intermission 1, Act 1: mroe than a feeling (more*)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> INTERMISSION TIME!  
> This one involves strictly Dirk and Roxy. There will be an Act 2, but that will come later. Not next, but later.

“She’s the worst, am I right or am I right?” she exclaims, slamming her drink down with a loud thunk. The action made the swill splatter on the counter. All of the sudden, she could give no more shits on who heard.

“Ms. Lalonde, you are drunk,” Dirk comments, sipping a Coke Zero. What a pansy. She invited him out to drink from one co-worker to another, and so far… ZILCH in the fun department. She isn’t sure what annoys her more: his drink of choice at a _bar_ , of the fact the he never _talks!_

“Not as drunk as you’re gonna be!” she retorts. “You! Barkeep! Yeah, you! Gimme one o’ your original concoctions for my uptight buddy here!” She slaps his back hard, making him spit up his carbonated swill.

“No thanks, I really—” She shoots him a dirty look. “Alright, but none of that Scottish shit. I hate that stuff. Orange flavor would be a plus.”

“You got it,” the stereotypical bartender (the ugly kind, not the hot kind) replied. “An original Crusher comin’ right up.”

“So, what brings you to the Crocker Corps., young man?” she asks as the bartender places the cold glass on the counter.

“I need to work,” he shrugs. “Being a rapper ain’t all it’s cracked up to be. A packer of boxes at a factory making sugary shit is better than being homeless.”

“Hear, hear!” she toasts.

“What about you?”

“I’m a respected scientist!” she says proudly, downing the rest of her drink.

“Obviously,” he says, taking another sip. She can tell he actually likes it.

“Any girl in your life?”

“Every girl I’ve dated makes me want to play for the other team.”

“So, you’re a homosezual, huh? Don’t worry, I won’t say a thing!”

“Hm.”

The conversation died a little after that. She had run out of drink, as well as things to ask. She orders another strawberry martini.

“So Miss Lalonde, what about you? I don’t even know your first name.”

“Oh snap!how rude of me!” she gasped. “The name’s Roxy, like in that one musical.” She clears her throat and sings, “Roxyyyy!”

“No shit? It sure is unique.”

“Yeah,” she said nervously. Maybe it was the alcohol, but the semi-compliment made her happy. For her, it’s a turnoff when a man hints they’re gay, so she backs off in the flirting department. But this man…

“Forgive my rudeness, but you’re a lot older than me, and I admit I’m curious…” He shrugs.

“Nope, I’m proud to display my age!” she exclaims, finally getting her drink. “People say I look younger than I am, when I’m actually the big three-oh!” She takes a sip and smacks her lips daintily.

“Are you sure? You look more like my age, the big two-four.”

“Well fuck, that’s unfortunate. I’m not into minors.” She sipped a bit more. Is this glass halfway gone already??

He busts out laughing. “You said that with such a straight face!” Oh man, he’s already hammered and he’s only drunken two beers.

Roxy laughs, too. First, she’s louder, then he laughs louder, then he does, then she. The bartender gives them a stern look, and they laugh at him, too. That fuckin’ mustache! Bushy as fuck! Soon after, they are escorted out, keys confiscated.

Roxy wipes tears from her eyes. “That was the craziest mustache. Ever!” She sighed and looked to Dirk. She waggled her eyebrows. “Ya wanna go somewhere else?”

“They took m’wallet.”

“Damn it! No keys, no wallet—”

“I still have my keys. I just live across the street.”

“Whaaaaaat? No way.”

“Hey, if you didn’t want to come over, you could just say so.”

“Step aside!” she says, shoving him gently, and heads in the general direction of an apartment building.

“I thought you weren’t into minors. And, that’s the wrong way.”

“Shut up! You, I’d bang _any day_.”

“Whoa doctor, is that an order? Or an invitation? Or… fuck, how does that go?” He’s so cute.

“You’re the one that invited me t’yur house!”

“I think I might need another drink to put up with your grammar.”

“How’s about you just shut me up instead?” Shit, was that too much? She swiftly puts her hands on his face and kisses him sloppily. They battle it out until another drunk patron yells for them to get a room. She totes forgot they hadn’t moved much from the bar. “Not bad for a kid.”

“I could say the same, grandma.”

“You wanna go, son?”

“Let’s go then, old lady!”

“Yeah? Well, let’s see who, whuh uh… fuggit I got nuthin’.”

* * *

 

The next morning is muggier than usual. Usually he slept with the windows open because the nights here were so cool this time of year. But this morning, it was _hot_. He opens his eyes slowly to assess the situation.

The sun is bright. It can’t be later than ten. He wipes the sweat off the back of his neck and forehead. He needs a haircut. He’ll do it tomorrow on his day off. He hates it when his hair is long enough to stick.

“It’s Saturday,” he mumbles. “When do I work again?” He sits up. Aside from a pounding headache, he doesn’t feel all that terrible. And for some reason, he’s naked, with dry white stuff between his legs. He must have been tugging it in his sleep aga—

Oh, no.

He promised himself he would practice abstinence until he found someone—anyone—but clearly alcohol jeopardizes his values. So much for that. He puts drinking on his list of “Things to never do again”.

“Where did she even go?”

He pulls off the covers and swings his legs over the side of the bed one-by-one. His foot grazes something soft. He looks down.

“Oh, mother fuck.”

The accomplished Dr. Roxy Lalonde is passed out on his floor, naked as the day she was born. Not to mention there is fresh vomit on his carpet. She must have tripped on her way to the bathroom.  Now, aside from the dry puke trickling from her mouth, she's a pretty hot thirty-something.

“Mrrreghh,” she groans. She slides her arm around on the carpet until she finds her forehead. She mumbles, “My house doesn’t have carpet…” Her eyes snap open. “MY HOUSE DOESN’T HAVE CARPET!” Dirk flinches at the sudden yelling.

She scrambles up, gathering her bearings. One look at the puke and she gags. He can’t help but chuckle, despite the mistakes that got them there in the first place.

She jumped at the sound of his voice. “Oh, my fuck!” she gasps. She just realized what happened. Slowly, his memories start to return as well. She puts a hand over her mouth and turns a bright red.

“What, you’ve never had a one-night stand before?” he asks.

She shakes her head, mouth still covered.

“Well, don’t worry about it, they’re always this awkward. Took me a while to get over it, and that’s when I was dead sober.” He thought it would make him look like a jerk if he asked if she was taking birth control, so he kept his trap shut.

“Okay,” she responds, covering herself.

He offers his blanket and she takes it nervously. She wraps it around herself, still flushed.

“Thank you,” she mumbles, looking down. “I’m sorry. Sometimes when I drink, I get a little weird in the head. I’m actually surprised I’ve never had a one-night-stand before!” She laughs and then falls silent. She must be scared out of her mind.

* * *

 

Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!

“Tell you what, let me take a shower first, because the pipes here are shit and it takes a while to warm up.” His calm voice penetrates Roxy’s inner freakout. Oh god, she just used the word “penetrate”. “And then while you shower, I’ll head down to the bar and pick up your keys, is that okay?”

“Okay,” she agrees. She completely forgot about her keys. She needs a drink to get over this mess. No she doesn’t, she needs to sober up and CALM THE FUCK DOWN.

“No peeking!” he jests, taking the bedsheet and wrapping himself. What a waste, he is a very sexy man. No Roxy, stop staring at him! This isn’t the first time she’s seen a naked man.

He steps into the bathroom, sheet and all.

As soon as she hears the water running, she scrambles to her feet. She tosses the blanket back on the bed and starts to look for her clothes. She finds her favorite white button-up work shirt with the three-quarter sleeves and threw it on, but not before she found her bra on the…ceiling fan? She finds her matching knee-length pencil skirt in the corner and puts that on as well. She scans the area, making sure she got everything: purse, clothes, and black heels, and the keys are at the bar. Good.

She races to the door and closes it quietly. She takes off down the stairs, not even waiting for a man with an armload of groceries coming through the door.

She darts across the street to the bar to demand her keys back, and gets them back without argument, most likely because of her disheveled appearance. She thanks them and goes right back out.

It’s a good thing she has the day off today, or else she’d be fu—

“Nevermind I’ll find someone liiike yoooouuuu-hoooooo!” her phone sang. Shit, it’s the boss. The big CEO man. Why is _he_ calling her? Doesn’t he have an assistant? Secretary? His _wife?_

“Dr. Lalonde, I need you to come in today,” the man orders in a gruff voice.

“Mr. English, I thought you gave me the weekend,” she responds. She glances around for a pharmacy. The old fart hates excuses, but maybe she can negotiate just one additional hour so she can pick up some of that “Plan C” stuff or something.

“May I remind you that there are hundreds of scientists of your caliber and expertise in this city.”

“Yes, I understand that, sir.” She finds one and starts powerwalking. It’s about eleven in the morning now, and people are starting to crowd the streets.

“So you understand that if you are not here in exactly one hour, you will be out of a job?”

“Yes sir, but I might be a little late. I’ve never been late before, plus I have a mentee now, and—”

“If you are even fifteen minutes over the time I have just told you, YOU’LL NEVER WORK IN THIS COUNTRY AGAIN!” Roxy had to hold her phone away from her ear. She’s giving up on the pharmacy for now, and hails a taxi instead. “AND MARK MY WORDS, I WILL TRANSFER YOU TO THE CONGO.”

She gulps. She’s only heard stories about that place.

“THE CLOCK IS TICKING, AND SO HELP ME, YOU WILL BE PACKING YOUR BAGS TONIGHT IF THIS INSUBORDINATION CONTINUES!”

“But I just need—” The taxi pulls up.

“I’M ALREADY HERE! DON’T KEEP ME WAITING!” He hangs up. She puts her oversized prototype cellular phone in her purse. They are a necessary evil in her line of work, she concludes.

“Where to, miss?” the driver asks. He meets her eyes in the rear-view mirror. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Take me to the Crocker Headquarters in less than forty-five minutes. I’ll pay you double.”

“This ride’s on me, ma’am.” He tips his hat on this cloudy day. “No need for any more stress.”

“Thank you so much,” she whimpers.

She would cover up the fact that she wore the same clothes the day before by changing into her lab coat in the employee locker room.

When they approach the building, she will direct him to the employee entrance through the back. For now, she will have to think about how to go about solving her new problem.

Memories of last night had only been trickling in before, but now that she was relaxed in a taxi, the floodgates opened. There were things she did with Dirk last night that made her blush even thinking about it. How did they do that? Did all those things really come out of her mouth? Was that position even possible??? Oh god, she actually did that. Oh no, he’s hot…

She shakes her head violently, covering her mouth worriedly, staring out the window, trying and failing to just space out already.

* * *

 

Dirk steps outside of the shower not ten minutes after he got in. The water finally got hot as he rinsed off, so Roxy should have no problems with it getting cold while she does her girly things or whatever girls do in the shower.

“So Roxy, the shower’s all yours!” he calls from the bathroom. He rubbed a towel on his head quickly, drying his hair. Yep, he definitely needs a trim.

He didn’t hear an answer, so he wrapped another towel around his waist, draping the one he dried his hair with over his shoulders.

“Roxy, I said—” He cut himself off. She’s gone. A quick glance around the one-room apartment told him that much.

It was the “why” that bothered him. It happened so often in the past that he wondered why he should even care anymore. Many reasons came to mind, but none of the typical ones seemed to fit her personality.

As per usual, he went through a series of questions that tried to separate her from every other person he’d slept with. Was it because she was older? No, his first girlfriend was two years older than he was. She had a better job? No, he had a one-nighter with a businessman once. That one was awkward. Because she was gorgeous? No, he dated a model for about a week last year, but she was already in a committed relationship with her mirror.

Memories from the night before came all at once. _Oh._ He swallowed uncomfortably. He looked down to see the towel slightly tenting.

“Gh—” he sighed. “Damn it.”

* * *

 

Roxy pays the kind driver with tips. She turns and runs to the building, since her life now depended on it. She speeds past the greeter and zooms to the employee locker room door.

"Oh good, you're here early!" an airy voice chips. The boss's wife, Betty Crocker, is the perfect woman: tall, thin, meek, never raises her voice, wearing dresses and tying her massive hair into a heavy-looking bun, and not to mention the brain behind the recipes. But the scientists in Roxy's division knew that when it came to those recipes, she was obsessive and unforgiving. Mr. English himself is the businessman, and a terrible people-person. When they were together, there was a certain atmosphere that was not loving at all, even when they showed public affection.

"I was just about to change," Roxy says, pointing her index finger at the door. "Lab coats and all, hahaha!" She may or may not have jeopardized her job by sleeping with a coworker.

"Don't worry, this is an unofficial meeting! It'll be just the three of us," Mrs. Crocker reassures her, taking her hand and winking.

"Are you sure? I mean..."

"You will be fine," she annunciates with a sweet smile.

Roxy gulps and obeys.

The woman is at least a foot-and-a-half taller than Roxy is, and just following makes her feel like a child about to be lectured at. But she'll be fine, she'll be okay. She hopes.

Finally, they are standing outside the conference room door, made of glass walls and brightly lit with natural morning light. Roxy can see the boss sitting inside like a big hulking bald statue in a suit that stares and gives everyone the willies.

Roxy takes a deep breath as she is led in by Mrs. Crocker.

"Sit." She sits. "Good morning Dr. Lalonde."

"Good morning, sir," she answers.

"How long have you been with us?"

"About five years I think?"

"It is my understanding that you were hired out of graduate school, after you got your degree."

"Yes, sir. I studied the advancement of sugar enzymes and proteins and their effects in the bloodstreams of cats, dogs, and other domesticated pets. I made some breakthroughs in cats, and determined that certain food colorings changed their DNA to a point of mutation." One of them had gotten pregnant and had an entire litter of mutated kittens. Only one survived, which she kept and named "Mutie", short for "mutant". She thought it was rather endearing, since he's a such strong and energetic kitty.

"I don't care. Betty, stand where I can't see you."

"Yes, dear," she replies. She was standing behind Roxy the entire time. She moves behind the large man, giving him a dirty look. She leans on one leg, puts a hand on her hip, and cocks her head to the side, dropping her overall good-wife façade. Her heels click into place.

"You have impressed us here at the top, Miss Lalonde, and we have decided to promote you to lead scientist in all the divisions," he says loudly, grabbing her wandered attention again.

Roxy is utterly speechless. A promotion? She can't help but smile. All of her hard work has finally paid off!

"In order to properly initiate you into our board of directors, we have prepared a video. Betty!" he bellows. She flinches. "Draw the curtains!"

She doesn't respond and obeys. She lowers the screen at the front of the room and pushes a VHS into the VCR.

It starts out okay with the usual promotional BS, but then it starts flashing red and getting weird, so Roxy averts her eyes for a few seconds. When she opens them again, Betty Crocker is raising a large trident above her head with both hands, aimed at Mr. English's head, and plunges it right into his skull.

Roxy screams.

* * *

 

Waiting for the bus sucks. Dirk Strider would rather be leaping from roof to roof, honing his skills. He's been so tired from his day job that his freestyle has taken a big hit. Work to support rapping career, rapping career suffers because of work. Sure, packing and moving heavy boxes filled with sugary junk all day is good pay and builds muscle, but it's utterly exhausting.

The last time he traveled by rooftop, he was accused of knocking over a satellite dish on some ritzy penthouse and had to pay them back out of pocket. Man, rich people have some good lawyers. In any case, he's now stuck on the bus by court order.

The bus finally arrives. He greets the usual bus driver, pays his usual fee, and sits in his usual seat. His mind wanders to last night's strange turn of events, and the unusual circumstances that led up to them. It was honestly the best time he'd had in a long time. That is, until the graphic images come back again. Did they even use a condom? He doesn't keep them around since he gave up sex, but maybe she had one. Or maybe she's on birth control anyway, so there's no need to worry, Dirk, he tells himself.

Roxy Lalonde was a cool chick, he thought. She shared his interests and secretly bashed the boss, and would probably make a good drinking buddy if he drank more.

* * *

 

Roxy couldn't believe her eyes. Even after he had been stabbed through the head, he had put up a fight. His wife easily overtook him and threw him to the ground, stabbing him some more through the chest, abdomen, and face until he stopped moving altogether. Roxy had stopped screaming and gone into hyperventilation mode.

"I've been waitin' 50 years to do that," she mutters in a drawl. "It's finally over." She grows a sinister grin and eerily looks in Roxy's direction. "Subliminal video didn't work, eh? Oh well, that's for mainly the saps at the lower levels anyway." She stands up with a grunt, using her weapon as support. She is covered in deep red blood, but Roxy could hardly tell because of her already-red dress. Her bun is a mess and her mascara is running. She wipes some blood from her cheek, and underneath the pale flesh-colored foundation is an ashen tint.

"D-don't come near me!" Roxy pleads. "I won't say anything, I promise!" She gulps audibly.

"Don't bother beggin' for your life. I won't krill you. Like they gonna believe you anyway."

"Th-then what...?"

She laughs to herself as she saunters towards Roxy, who had plastered herself on the back wall in the tussle. "What betta than to have you at my right fin?" She sneers and leans in close. Her blood-covered fifties-style dress seems to fit. "An' besides, what's a food company without a li'l science?"

* * *

 

It had been six months since Dirk shared a night with Roxy, three months since he saw her in person, and two months since he's had a decent conversation with her. It was beginning to worry and irritate him.

One unusually cold night in September, he got a phone call at one in the morning. Before he had the chance to yell at the person for calling so late, he heard crying.

"Roxy?" he asks. "Is that you?"

"I fucked up," she whimpers. "I fucked up ree bad, Dirg!"

He sighs, pressing his face against his pillow. He groans and asks, "Are you seriously drunk dialing me at one in the godda-"

"I cand do it anymore!" she cries.

"Whoa can't do what?" He sits up in bed and turns on the lamp on his headboard. "If you need help, just ask."

She pauses for a moment, sniffling some more. "Help me."

And that was that. He quickly puts on his usual black pants and white polo and takes off out his window.

It takes about 20 minutes for him to get to her address. She lives in a good-sized house in a safe neighborhood. He knocks on the wooden door.

It opens a crack. Roxy peeks out with swollen eyes and shaking hands. "Don't com'in," she mumbles. "I'm in my peejamas."

"You called me, remember?" he replies. "You said you needed help, and I'm going to help you. Now please let me in?"

She hides her face behind the door for a few seconds before opening it all the way and hiccuping. Ho-ly shit.

"Holy shit!" Dirk shouts. He stands and stares with his mouth hanging open.

"Too loud!" she whispers, dragging him inside by his wrist. She locks the door behind them, nearly dropping her half-empty bottle of pure vodka.

Dirk promptly removes the beverage from her grasp and flash-steps it to the kitchen sink, dumping it down the drain. He returns to the living room, where she sits with her face buried in both of her hands.

"I fugged up." She sniffs again. "I had a drink even though I knew." She reaches for a box of tissues, but it's empty. Once she figured it out, she throws it across the room and nearly hits her television. He joins her on the couch. "I know, I mean."

Dirk has no idea what to do with a crying pregnant woman who has been caught drinking. There's no point in asking if she's okay, so he just puts his arm around her shoulders. "Is this the first time this has happened? The drinking while pregnant thing, I mean."

She nods and leans onto him. "But duzzit mean I'm a bad person? Or a bad mother?"

"Roxy, you're a good person. You just made a mistake, that's all."

"Thiz iz a bad one, though! Do you know how many precawshins a woman has to take before having a child?! I can't dringor hangar round my friends who smoke or have certain foods even though I just wanna go outside and eat tree bark most nights, and sometimes with certain blood types and the womanzage, you have to _plan_ all this bullshit in advanced with shots an' tests an' to make sure the kid don't have a fukkin' disease or someshit... Are you laughin' at me?!"

Dirk didn't realize that he had been suppressing laughter since 'tree bark'. "No, go on."

"You just don't unnerstand! At this crucial part of the development stage, you hafta be really, REALLY careful!"

"Development? You look ready to blow." He suddenly feels awkward that they had slept together while she was already pregnant. She's huge, so she must have been, right? Not to mention how much they drank that night. Even if she didn't know, she must have figured it out by that time, right?

She squints up at him. "Dirge, this smay seem hard to believe, but I'm only six months preg'ant."

Wait. He blinks. Is she saying... "Are you saying...?"

Her face contorts again, tears streaming down. She wipes away her tears feverishly.

"Hey, hey, Rox, come on, don't cry. Here." He wraps his arms around her shoulders. "I got you. Just let it all out. I can always bleach this shirt."

She didn't hesitate, sobbing various words that sounded like "I fucked up" and "Now they'll be all brain damage or something" and-

"They?" he asks.

"Twins," she mutters. "The doctor says a boy and girl. He doesn't know if they're fratermal or whatever yet."

"No wonder." He cranes his neck to look at her belly. Now that he thinks of it, they _could_ be his. How can he ask, though? Someone told him a while back that one type of person you should never piss off is a pregnant woman.

"I bet yer wonderin' why I even called you," she said suddenly, beating him to the punch. "It was dumb, I was stupid. I was a dumb and I'm sorry, you could probs go home. I'll be find."

"I know I should have said this months ago, but..." He took a deep breath. She’s waiting. "But you're the coolest chick I know. Literally every other woman I've met wanted to get in my pants and leave. Not you, though. I thought we hit it off as friends really well. Well, then we had that one-night stand, but then you showed me that you were willing to be friends again. It caught me by surprise and not much surprises me anymore."

Roxy lets out an awkward shudder-laugh-sniffle, turning the side of her head against his chest.

"But anyway, I think it's safe to say that we're probs best friend status right now," he says, smiling and ruffling her hair.

"Oh my gawd, stahhp!" she laughs.

"Haha, nope."

"Strider Dirk, you jerk!" She pushes him away playfully. "I got a full belly here!" She sighs dreamily and caresses said belly.

"Is it rude if I ask to touch it?" Shit, he just said that out loud, didn't he? He still wants to.

"Sure," she answers without hesitation. "They kick me when they're not kickin' each other, so I'm purty tough by now."

"They sound like quite the pair of fighters already." He sits closer, nervously hovering his hand over her.

"They sure are. They're not like me at all. And would you just do it? They're waiting to hear their father's voice, so you'd better thinka somethin' cool to say."

He draws his hand back and stares at her incredulously. She's been dropping hints all night but... "Whoa, hang on. Are you sure they're mine?"

"What kinda girl do you take me for?" she states quite loudly. "Of course they're yours, dumbass! It's not like I sleep witha buncha men or have time for a boyfriend with the kinda job I have! I mean, I have poster boyfriends but..."

"Sorry," he apologizes, putting a fist to his forehead and squeezing his eyes tight. Stupid, stupid question, Strider!

"It's fine, fine, you're fine. It's the first question ya gotta ask, I guess. Now hurry up and touch me. I'm either queasy from the drink, or baby-nauseous, or gonna throw up soon from both."

He complies. Gently, he places is hand in the center and made slow circles.

She giggles. "They're movin' in there alright. They know so'ms up. Go a little lower and you'll feel 'em."

Swallowing, Dirk shifts a little lower. Then he feels something weird and odd-shaped. She grunts slightly. He eyes the end of her purple sleeping dress and asks, "Do you mind?"

"Go for it. You've already seen the goods." She gives the okay with a half-assed wave.

He lifts it up and folds it neatly under her chest, which had swelled from flat to full in the last few months. Lo and behold where he had just put his hand, was the protrusion of what looks like a tinier hand. He takes her hand and directs her there.

"What's going on?"

"It's a tiny hand, Roxy," he whispers. "I wish you could see it, it's incredible."

She gasps when she feels it, then laughs lightly. "Wait," she says. "Maybe I can. I have an old Polaroid that does the picture thing. It's in the drawer under the TV. Get it, quick, before he stops!"

He quickly stands up, nearly tripping over the table and rushes to the unit. "He?"

"Or she, I dee kay."

"What?" he laughs, pulling it out and making sure there are prints inside.

"It means 'I don't know'. It's the future of communication, mark my words. Hurry, hurry!"

"I'm a terrible picture taker, so you'll have to forgive me if I miss it." He kneels on the ground.

"Just aim and press the button, and keep your fingers away from the lens. Oh shit, she's backing off, go go go!"

He snaps the picture and the flash goes off. Not more than a second later, the paper comes out. Giving the camera to Roxy, he mutters, "Good job, little man. Or girl. Whatever you are."

"Oh, it's presh!" She has tears in her eyes, but from joy this time, not from feeling sorry for herself.

Dirk joins her back on the couch and takes a look. "Hey, I'm not half bad of a photo grapher."

"It's photAHgrapher, you silly boy."

Then Dirk thinks of something. "What about your job? Aren't you on the board? What does our new CEO think about this?"

Roxy is silent. The mood has officially died. She starts to gag and covers her mouth.

"Go, I'll wait."

He helps her up and she powerwalks to the nearest bathroom. She closes the door. He follows her and waits outside the hallway.

When she comes back out, he asks if that was the trigger to her drinking.

"Well, not the job itself. It was really just my boss finding out. I nearly got fired today."

"Are you serious?! They can't do that!"

"They can and she has. I still have a job because I'm the only one who—" she stops herself.

"What? The only one who what?"

She looks to the side. "I'll tell you tomorrow."

“In that case, I'll stay here tonight. Camp out on the couch.” She opens her mouth to protest, but he cuts her off. “I insist.”

She pouts and leads him to the linen closet to get out a clean quilt.

For the next week, they meet at her home, buying things for the unborn children. Roxy makes more than enough money for the both of them, so it would be no problem at all if she kept both children at her house. He could come over whenever he wanted, to babysit, play swords or whatever. She argued that he’d also have to play dollies if the girl wanted him to, and he agreed shamelessly. They also agreed that their names should be after themselves, since they’re the coolest people they know.

Meanwhile, Dirk baby-proofed his house, just in case. He packed up all of the miscellaneous swords that were not nailed to the wall, shampooed the old-ass carpet, bleached everything else, bought bottles and plastic dishes, yadda, yadda, yadda.

He still wanted to know what Roxy knew about the boss. She dodged the question expertly for an additional two months before he cornered her after buying a shit-ton more diapers.

“Why won’t you just simply tell me what makes you so scared of her!” he demands, blocking her way to her kitchen with one arm. She squints her eyes at the arm, then turns to him by tilting her head to the side diagonally.

“You really want to know, huh?” she sneers.

“Yes.”

“Fine!” She drops the plastic bags of disposable underwear and puts her arms up. “Lead me to interrogation, officer!” she says while gesturing to the air with her hand.

“Come on.” He drags her by her arm to the living room couch and sits. She does the same.

“She’s a fucking alien,” she says as she sits down.

“Do you expect me to believe that?”

She looks him dead in the eye. “She’s. An. Alien.”

* * *

 

“How is that even possible?” he asks.

“Honestly?” she answers, shrugging the shruggiest of all shrugs. “I don’t know! No clue! She hasn’t told much, just that she crash-landed, killed the original Betty Crocker, and created a company.” These were all things that she was told. Like the woman said, who’s she going to tell? She’ll be put in the nuthouse, that that’s for sure.

“Killed the original Betty Crocker? Now that’s just cruel. And impossible.”

“Yeah, and she all the recipes, too. Half of them out now, especially those gummy pieces of shit with the juice inside, are her own. We’ve introduced alien food to the public, Dirk, and nobody knows!” She laughs boisterously. “I don’t know how she did it, but she did!”

“Did what? You’re not making any sense.”

“She can live forever if she wanted to. Or close to it. She’s already old, so…”

Dirk sighs, bringing down Roxy from her unsteady high. He leans his forehead against his hand.

“I know I sound crazy, and even though I don’t have definitive proof, I am telling the truth. I’m not just making these things up just because it’s different.”

“Okay, let’s say I believe you. What’s so frightening about her?”

“She killed Mr. English.”

He raises his eyebrows out from under his pointed sunglasses.

“Right in front of me.”

“What? When?” He’s concerned.

“Eight months ago, the day after we uh…” She wanted to forget the day after ever happened. She wasn’t allowed to go home for the next few days, at the request of the boss herself.

“Did the thing, yeah. I get it.”

“Anyway, she finds ‘human mating rituals’ disgusting, so when she starting asking questions about why I was so fat, I just told her. We argued that it was too late to abort, and when I told her that it was her fault for keeping me from getting what I needed to prevent it, she nearly killed me herself!” When he tries to take her hand, she refuses. “Then the day I called you, she gave me until the end of term, then I am to either transfer where she wants me to, or she’ll order me to quit.”

Roxy can tell that Dirk is dumbfounded. “She can’t do that!”

She reiterates what she told him two months ago. “She can and she has.” Roxy takes a breath and puts on a smile and her chin in her hand. “I know I’m going to have to quit. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

Dirk purses his lips and puts his face in his hands, groaning. “What a fucking nuisance.”

“Yes she is.”

* * *

 

“Dirk, you have a call,” his boss calls from across the noisy packaging room. He’d been taking extra shifts, so they had gotten to know each other pretty well. “My office, line two.”

“Thank you, sir,” he answers, taking off his faded orange cap. He pumps some hand sanitizer on his hands before picking up the phone, wiping the excess on his black tank. Why he’s wearing something so light at the beginning of December, no one will ever know. “This is Dirk Strider.”

“IT’S HAPPENING!” the woman shrieks from the other end of the line. “I’M AT MY HOUSE COME GET ME WITH YOUR WEIRD NINJA POWERS!”

It’s happening? It’s happening?! “I’m on my way, I’ll call an ambulance for you!”

“I DON’T TRUST SOME IDIOTS WITH A NIGHT SCHOOL DEGREE! I TRUST _YOU!_ ”

“Okay, I’m coming! I’m clocking out now. See you in a few.” He immediately hangs up, an unintentional smile forming on his face. He darts out of his boss’s office. “Mr. H, I’m clocking out! It’s happening!” he yells as he runs to the employee locker room.

“Good luck!” he yells back.

Dirk wastes no time getting the hell out of dodge, throwing his jacket on at the same time. Ignoring his court order, he runs all the way to Roxy’s house, not slowing down for a single obstacle. He gets there in ten minutes flat and barges in.

Water. Water everywhere. He looks over to the couch and sees Roxy draped on it like a ragdoll.

“Fina-fuckin’-lee!” she cries. Hurry, the contractions are only eight minutes apart now!

“The fuck?! You should have told me hours ago!” He picks her up princess-style and she wraps her arms around his neck.

“I was asleep hours ago!”

“Didn’t they wake you up? Isn’t that kind of what labor is supposed to do?” He’s taken the courses with Roxy a few times, so he knows a little bit about this stuff.

“I thought they were just kickin’ me again! They’ve been doing that a lot lately!” She stifles a grunt. “Fuuuhhhseven minutes.”

“Damn it, Roxy.”

She shrugs in his arms.

He makes sure her door is locked before taking off to the hospital. Five minutes later, he is panting heavily and the nurses take her away on a stretcher.

“Are you the father?” one of the nurses asks.

“Yes,” he answers.

“Then follow me, she needs moral support and you need to get scrubbed up,” she orders him.

He looks down at himself. He’d picked up a lot of dirt on the way. “Yes, ma’am.”

“First time?” she asks.

He takes a deep breath. “Yup.”

“I can tell because you’re smiling like a madman.” Is he? “I see it all the time.” She smiles.

He gives an awkward smile back. “I don’t know what to say to that,” he laughs. Awkward.

“Let’s just get you back to her side.”

The process doesn’t take very long, surprisingly. He’s in and out in less than two minutes. The nurse leads him to Roxy’s delivery room lets him in.

“You asshole! You’re late—AUUGH!” she screams.

What?! Wait, this is normal, right? “Better late than never,” he replies. He takes her hand off the bed frame and she squeezes it hard. “Mother of fuck!” he yells. She’s a strong one, alright.

“I hate everything! Fuck you Betty Crocker, fuck you doctors, and FUCK YOU DIRK STRIDER!” More screaming. It truly is a miracle all these doctors and nurses aren’t deaf by now.

“Yes you did! And you liked it too!” he retorts.

“I’M GOING TO PUNCH YOU! AND NEVER AGAIN!”

“That’s one,” their regular doctor says, expertly cutting the umbilical cord.

Dirk looks over to see a baby girl being lifted up and taken away to be cleaned. A giant, bald, pink raisin covered in mysterious goo and blood crying like no tomorrow in the arms of a very patient nurse. Another bone-crushing squeeze to his hand brings his attention back to Roxy.

“If I live through this, remind me to cut off your dirk and feed it to sewer gators,” she says through gritted teeth. He gulps. She doesn’t mean that, right?

“Good luck with that. And you are going to live through this.” He puts his forehead against hers and ruffles her hair. “You can do this.”

“Roxy, the other one is having trouble coming out. Don’t push quite yet.” The doctor disappears under her gown. Dirk doesn’t even want to know what is happening down there. “Okay, now!”

She complies, and more shouting and cursing ensues. Dirk’s hand is just about broken by now. The whole process feels like it’s taking too long.

“That’s two!” the doctor finally exclaims. Dirk opens his eyes and looks to Roxy, who is just about to pass out. She is so done.

He hears the clipping of the other cord and looks to the doctors. The baby boy is bright red and sniffling. It almost looks like hiccupping. That’s too cute.

Roxy tugs gently on Dirk’s arm. “How are they?” she asks, looking sleepily into his eyes.

“They’re alive,” he deadpans. He then smiles and says, “They’re perfect, Rox.”

She giggles and closes her eyes. “I’mma try to stay awake so I can see them. Gimme my babies.”

“Can we hold them yet?” Dirk asks one of the nurses. “She’s just about to pass out.”

“Give us a minute, we want to give them both to you, and we’re almost finished with the boy,” one answers.

“Give ‘em a sec,” he relays.

“Thank you for being here,” she mumbles, shaking his arm.

“Anytime, Roxy,” he says, bending down to kiss her forehead.

An entirely different nurse comes back into the delivery room with a baby in each arm, one wrapped in pink, the other in blue. Both are calm and sleeping.

“Hey look, one for you and one for me,” Dirk points out.

“Rude,” Roxy drawls. She takes them both gingerly, one on either side of her. “They’re both _mine._ ”

“No fair, I want one!”

“You can have…” She looks at both of them, going back and forth and pouting her lips. “The boy. Dave. He looks about ready to blow a huge snot bubble.”

“Thanks,” he draws out, reaching for the blue bundle with tufts of blonde sticking out of the area around his face. It doesn’t match for some reason. He holds the baby up to his chest like he was taught, supporting the head in the crook of his elbow. There’s no snot bubble to be seen.

Then, the weirdest thing happens. The boy opens his eyes and looks right into Dirk’s. His eyes are a brilliant red. Seconds pass that seem like hours. Dirk smiles again. This is his son.

The moment is inadvertently ruined when the doctor comes back in to tell them that they are to be moved to another room.

* * *

 

As soon as Dave left Roxy’s side, it felt empty, so she picks up Rose and holds her in front of her chest.

“Such a precious little girl,” she whispers just loud enough to hear herself. “My sweet, precious Rose.” She will definitely be raised like one. Beautiful and intelligent, but come too close to her bad side and she will prick you.

Roxy didn’t let herself think about tomorrow. She’ll have to turn in her resignation as well as look for another job. Her savings will buy her some time, as well as give her an excuse to stay home and raise her new children.

Her children.

She gently strokes Rose’s soft cheek. She stirs, but doesn’t wake up completely. Her purple eyes open in slits, but then she goes right back to sleep again. That’s so cute.

“Beautiful Rose,” she coos at her daughter. Her daughter. Her daughter. Her daughter.

The rude doctor comes back in and tells them they needed to move to another room. Roxy huffs and lets herself be wheeled away, followed by Dirk and Dave.

Three long days later, they are free to leave the hospital. The proud parents are taken back to Roxy’s home by taxi, ready for the rest of their lives.

But that night, something goes horribly, terribly wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter's title brought to you by: Boston


	7. UNDER A LOT OF PRESSURE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beware of pale feelings.  
> And some sadstuck.  
> Is it too late to put this story under the "Tragedy" genre?

Feferi Peixes  
Age: 11 sweeps  
Occupation: Politician [s)(e invented t)(e job!]  
Blood Caste: Fuchsia  
Legacy: The kind one

Eridan Ampora  
Age: 11 sweeps  
Occupation: Vice-politician (wwhatevver)  
Blood Caste: Violet  
Legacy: Douchebag

There are too many trolls on this ship. They don’t need any more problems, but here Eridan is, babysitting one. Aradia had apparently gotten injured on their little run from the mind honey explosion two months ago, and hasn’t quite gotten her strength back yet. She’s sleeping at the moment, which is fine for him, since he really doesn’t feel like flapping his gills to anyone besides his moirail at the moment. He’s trying not to blame her for the entire incident, but he’s failing massively because she technically is the one who started all of this. Her and that red-blooded manager of theirs.

He’s been hiding his true feelings for Feferi since they were young, and it is getting increasingly difficult to—

“How is she?” Sollux interrupted his thoughts.

“Still sleepin’,” Eridan says, gesturing to the giant vat of a waste of slime.

“Oh.” He steps closer. “I got it from here. You can go.”

“Finally.” He stands up from his chair and leaves. Eridan can swear he hears the yellowblood talking to her. She can’t hear anything, so why does he even try? He shakes his head and keeps walking. He bumps into someone while turning the corner.

“Excuse me,” Kanaya says. She pushes past him, going straight for a door at the end of the hall. She looks behind her. “Well? Shoo.”

“Why?” He crosses his arms.

“Because what is past these doors is none of your concern.”

“Well, we’re kind of lost in space, so ewrythin’ that happens here is ewryone’s fuckin’ business.”

“We are not lost,” she says with resolve.

Eridan walks toward her. “Oh really? Currently, I feel that this ship is going on impulse power and hawen’t seen life or sustenance since we left Alternia.”

“We are heading to Beforus.”

“Beforus? Newer heard of it.”

“It’s where all the adults of our kind live. Or used to. We have one last resource to extort before we find another planet to go to.”

“Another planet?!” Eridan has no idea what she’s glubbing on about.

“Vriska and I will tell everyone about it in time.”

“I think the time is now.”

Kanaya sighs heavily. “Well, if you are so curious about it, I guess I will tell you my part of the plan. But on one condition.”

“What?”

“Bring your friends. All three of them. I need them to know some background before we expose everything to you. Sollux and Aradia already know, since they helped formulate it with Tavros.” She purses her lips. “Gamzee will figure everything out eventually. He is quite the spy.”

“For a second, I thought you were flirtin’ with me.”

Kanaya squints her eyes. “What part of anything I just described sounded flirtatious to you? I have half a mind to cut you here and now. It will save us some slime to sleep in.” She raises her arms to shoo him away. “Now go, I will be here.” She turns him and gives him a push.

“Now go, I will be here,” he repeats to himself in a high-pitched voice. Cod damn landdweller. He shoves his hands into his pockets and shoves off.

He finds Karkat on the deck, arguing with Vriska on where to go. He’ll come back later.

Nepeta is hanging out with the other cat troll in the crow’s nest. What the glub? They’re probably stuck up there again.

Where’s Feferi? He checks all the decks but finds no sign of her. He checks the brig. She’s there, alright, huddled in one of the cages on the floor in the dark. No place for a diplomat.

“Fef, I need you,” Eridan says.

“Not now, Eridan, I can’t,” she responds.

“Not like that, I just…” She sniffles. “Are you okay?”

“No.”

“We’re moirails, let me hear your feelins.” He steps up to the bars she’s leaning against and crouches down. “We can use my big dumb cape for a pile if you want.”

“That’s sweet of you, but I just can’t.”

They stayed there for what seemed like hours before Feferi speaks up again.

“I’m still mourning, that’s all.”

“For Tav?” The thought of them being together makes his skin crawl, but there’s no use getting angry over it again.

She nods.

“You were red for him, right?”

“Mm-hm.”

“Well, I can’t accept your choices, but I do respect them. You can hawe whatewer feelins you want. You’re allowed. The highest of the highbloods are allowed to do what they want.”

She stays silent.

“An’ before you thank me, just know that I’ll be here. Because I still hawe those feelins I had sweeps ago. Just because we hawen’t spoken in a while, doesn’t make us not moirails.”

She turns her head over her shoulder, looking into Eridan’s eyes. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He stands up. “Kan needs us to get Kar and Nep and meet her in the storage block.”

“Oh,” she replies. “I’ll be right there.” She wipes her eyes and uses the bars to stand.

“I can wait. It’s what good moirails do, right?”

“Right.” She smiles at him and follows him out of the brig.

-

Karkat is so done with Vriska right now. It’s clearly going to take them at _least_ half a sweep or more to get them to the closest planet, and it sure hell _isn’t_ Beforus! He’s not even sure Beforus even exists. He’s been spending the last two months pouring over star maps with zero to no sleep and it’s starting to take its toll.

He storms off to a lower deck and finds Sollux in the sleeping quarters next to Aradia. Not exactly the person he wants to see, either. Karkat turns on his heel to leave but gets caught.

“Hey ath-hole,” Sollux says.

“What?” Did his lisp get worse?

“I need to talk to you.”

Fuck. He turns back around and walks over to the computer-type goggles-wearing psionic. “Why?”

“I have thome unfinished busineth with you.”

Karkat knew already. He’s going to get a new nook before the night is done.

Sollux stands up and takes Karkat’s collar with both hands. “Don’t think I’ve let you off the hook about TZ.”

Karkat knew it. He didn’t have anything planned to say. He just let Sollux do it. Karkat still mourns for her, too. Every day, every night, every time he looks up at the fucking stars, even.

“I _let_ you and her be together, remember?” He roughly shoves Karkat against the closest wall. “You should have been there. _I_ should have been there. Sinth you were the one branded the traitor, I really have no other choice but to blame you! I’ve already come to termth with mysthelf, sinth I already hate my own perthonality, and I highly doubt that anyone will ever underthand me better than she did!”

“I know all this shit already! I was also close to her, you know!”

“Not like I was!” Sollux tightens his grip and thrusts Karkat’s head against the wall. “You can forget about me ever forgiving you. I may never feel pale for another troll in my life. My life ith probably half over already, and thanks to you, I’ll probably only have Aradia, not to mention if she never waketh up, then I’ll be all alone. Just. Like. You.” He lets go.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t know all this was going to happen! Don’t you think I’ve already beat myself up over this?”

“You were her matethprit. I ekthpect you to.”

“Then why all this bullshit?! If you knew that I’ll just be self-indulgent on all this nonsense anyway, why even say anything to me at all?!”

“Thimple, KK. It’th my job. You let her die, and I’m giving you shit for it. But I am altho doing you a favor. Because according to Alternian law, I have every right to kill you. But I won’t. Now get out of my sight.” He turns to sit down in the chair again.

Karkat wants to say something else, but holds his tongue and leaves. It’s probably the wisest thing he’s done all day. He holds back as best as he can, ignoring the stinging in his eyes. He walks out. He needs some time alone to mourn. Maybe a new moirail. But he can’t. He doesn’t deserve another moirail. Or another matesprit for that matter. Fuck it, he doesn’t need anyone! Never again will he deserve any _one_ or any _thing_.

He spies Kanaya in front of the storage block door, looking around. She sees him and motions him over. It’s not like he has anything to do besides feeling sorry for himself, so he complies.

“What do you want?” he asks.

“I need to tell you something,” she answers. “But I need you to find the rest of your party. I promised Eridan to disclose information until you get the whole story from the captain.”

Karkat slaps his forehead. “Did that ass demand to know what you have stored in this room?”

“How did you guess?”

“I’ve known him for a while.” He looks past her, but she blocks his path. “Can I come in at least? I mean I’m here, so I can right?”

She sighs. “Alright. But don’t touch a thing. The captain is very particular on how she stores her treasures.”

“I don’t really give a shit about gold.” He pauses. “You might need to cover it up for Nepeta, though.” Karkat has heard that meowbeasts are suckers for shiny things, and since he doesn’t know the troll very well, and based on the fact that she followed a fish that led them all here, she might get antsy.

“You’re right. I will move the meeting to my quarters then. I’ll be back.” She absconds into the room for a minute. She comes back with a cube-shaped chest about a foot tall. “What is in this chest is the reason we are here. Not your group, of course. You just simply stumbled into our plan.”

“What plan?” Vriska.

“Good evening, Captain. May I ask who’s piloting the ship?”

“Calm down, Kanaya, I’m letting Mituna drive.”

Kanaya raises her eyebrows.

“I’ve got him under my control, so he’s not going to break course. I just needed a break. I’m tired of standing. We really should install a stool for that thing.”

“Well, when we get to a planet that provides wood-like material, we will.”

“So, what plan?”

“I was going to tell them some background before you told them what we are doing, but it seems that you are here now, so you can do it all yourself.”

“Awesome.” She smirks at Karkat. “I do love to babble.”

Karkat rolls his eyes. He is so done with every single troll on this ship. Except maybe Kanaya. He can stand her for more than five seconds. Maybe…

NO.

-

“I can see why you like to come here so often,” Nepeta tells the small troll. Meulin is a really sweet girl. Her hearing is bad, so she needs to speak slowly, but it’s not too much of a struggle.

“I just hate coming back down.” Meulin reaches her arms up. “Carry me?”

“Purrhaps I should let you purractice.” She stands up carefully and the small one follows suit. “Watch Nepeta!” She climbs on top of the railing like her lusus had taught her: on all fours. “Your turn!”

Instead of leaping on the railing, she leaps on Nepeta. She shrieks and falls off the rails, ramming her retractable claws into the mast just in time.

“Nepeta is furustrated!”

“Meulin is sorry!”

“Nepeta tells Meulin to take the rest of the way by herself.”

“Meulin rubs her head on Nepeta’s head.”

“Nepeta rejects the affections!”

Meulin lets out a hiss.

“No! Get down!”

Meulin lets herself down, finally managing to get to the bottom by herself.

“See? I knew you could do it!” Nepeta smiles.

Meuling smiles back and pounces off to the lower decks, where her potential matesprit is waiting, ready to take her back to the sleeping quarters. Nepeta had the special assignment of taking care of Meulin while her special furiend Kurloz was at his station. Now that their shift was ofurr, they are to go to sleep immediately.

She climbs down the rope ladders by hopping furom rung to rung. If Equius were here, he would tell her to be careful, since the sun shield isn’t solid and only capable of holding in gases, not solid mass, and not to mention the grreatest sunglass egg in existence. She tried to think about her meowrail every day. There’s a rather large hole in the place of her blood-pusher, but she knew he wouldn’t want her to be so sad all the time. The furst week was the worst. There wasn’t enough slime to go around, so the night terrors were relentless. It made her weak, and she hated it. She didn’t sleep for a few days after that. Her crewmates weren’t much help, either. There’s nothing like losing a meowrail that will make one want for their meowrail. There really was no cure for this revenge she yearns for. Her old life on Alternia had come to an end, and that ceruleanblood was long gone furom her reach.

She lands gracefully on the deck in a crouch. She looks up to see Karkat looming ofurr her.

“Good morning, Karkat,” she greets him cheerfully.

“You’re extra chippertastic today,” he says blandly. He’s purrobably not in a good mood. She huffs, trying to imitate his expression and body language.

“And you’re extra grumpy today.”

“Stop.”

“Nope.” She fails to keep her angry face on.

He sighs exasperatedly. “Just come with me. I have no time for your shit.”

Dejected, she allows herself to be dragged along by her upper arm. Karkat sure is a sourpuss today. She wonders what happened. He’s been getting better about not being so angry all the time, but all he did was get sadder instead.

It makes Nepeta want to pounce on him endearingly.

But she won’t because they’re coming up to Kanaya's door, and there is simply no room in there for them to not break anything.

They enter the small block, every square inch covered with fabric. It's so enticing…

Karkat had stopped pulling her along and sits her on the ground between him and Eridan. Kanaya, Vriskers and Feferi are also there.

“Now,” Kanaya begins. “Down to business.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter's title brought to you by: Queen  
> The second half of the first intermission is purrobably next.


	8. Intermission 1, Act 2: Still Into You, Y'know?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have slaved over this chapter this past week, and I'm glad I'm finally DONE. I got a little sidetracked copying Jane/Jake's chapter from paper to computer, and I finished that first portion, too, thanks to a patient friend who probably thinks I'm insane for writing something to sad.  
> Anyway, I was going to go a lot farther in this one, but I decided that it wouldn't make sense linearly, so I'm saving those future events for these two lovely beings for another day, which won't be for a long while.  
> Enjoy!

“Merry Christmas!”

“Mrs. Crocker?” Roxy calls out. She has turned white as a sheet. “What are you doing at my house?” The CEO of their company stands on the front porch. She looks bitter in her metallic fuchsia skirt-suit.

“I’m pretty shore that I told you I was coming a while ago.” She pauses to look at her nails. Dirk remembers now. She told Roxy that she would have to quit the day the babies arrived. It’s been three days, but it still feels too soon. “I’m here to tell you that I’m going to give you your job back. On one condition.”

Dirk eyes Roxy warily. He shakes his head slightly when their eyes meet, trying to convey the feeling that it just sounds _fishy._ She turned her gaze back to the boss and gulped. “Why now?”

The woman in pink sighs and comes down the stairs, heels clacking on the wood. “I need you to build something for my daughter.”

Dirk intervenes. “This is bullshit, she has her own children now. Why does she have to take care of yours?”

Both women turn their heads towards him, absolutely appalled.

“Dirk, it’s fine. When do you need it done?”

“Rox!” Dirk objects. He objects so hard.

“I need it by the twenty-fifth. This stupid human holiday is makin’ me rich, but it’s driving me fuckin’ insane.”

A Christmas present? Is she serious? “Is she serious?”

“Serious as death.” She drew out the word like she was saying “sea”-rious. She struts toward Dirk and stands over him, looking down her nose. He squinted back up at her, trying not to be intimidated by her stature. Not only was she bigger than life, but in person. Shit, she might just be an alien after all.

“What do you like me to build for her? What does she like?”

She looks at Roxy like she grew a second head and puts her hands on her hips. “Like?”

“What are her interests?”

“Shell if I know,” she scoffs. “I usually just make my assistants buy the latest things, no expenses spared.” She visually shuddered when she said that. “But since I fired everyone a few months ago, I need someone to take over their jobs. You can even let your buoy toy join.” Did she just day “buoy”?

“How would I know what to make if I don’t know what she likes?”

“Befriend her, obviously!” She waves them both inside. “Come in, I need sustenance.”

They both sigh and follow her in. They come home with two newborns, they’re threatened, and now they’re supposed to serve her? What a bitch.

Dirk tried to talk to her while they let the woman in their house. She expertly dodged every question. After a while, he just gave up trying to ask directly and just started giving her antonyms. “Double-you tee eff, Rox?” What the fuck, Roxy?

Immediate response. “Ess tee eff you, D-Stri. Ell eight are.” Shut the fuck up, Dirk. Later. That wasn’t cryptic in the slightest.

“Kay.” Okay.

Roxy hands him Rose and tells him to put them to bed while she negotiates the terms with the tyrannical businesswoman. Miraculously, the twins slept through the whole ride home. The room they had set up over the past few months was finally finished last week, complete with white walls, hanging models of suns and moons, the letters of their names painted over their perspective cribs, and toys everywhere. Most of them are the generic learning and exploration bullshit like rattling ladybugs and books made of quilt that sing to you, but a lot of them are creatures he invented and painstakingly hand-sewed by himself. Dirk doesn’t quite know what to call them yet. There’s also a doll in an old box he found while clearing out his apartment to make room for the kids when they came over to his apartment. He hadn’t seen it in years, and forgot he even still had it. Even without the name on its little shirt, Dirk will always remember the doll’s name: his childhood friend, Li’l Cal.

Should he give it to one of them now? Who would get it? Girls like dolls when they’re little, but he knows that if Dave was anything like himself, then he’d appreciate the small things that survive one’s childhood. Now the question is when. He decides that now will be as good as a time as any, so he puts it at the foot of Dave’s crib, and straightens it back up when it falls face-first.

He turns on the nightlight and baby monitor before he leaves the door open just a crack. Just in case the one-way walkie-talkies don’t work.

He flash-steps down the stairs and to the kitchen, appearing just outside the door. No use in revealing his abilities to such a dangerous woman yet.

“What’d I miss?” he asks.

“She’s just telling me the heiress’s daily routines,” Roxy answers. “It’s actually quite vigorous.”

“She will be my heiress someday, and I need her to be as good as I am,” Betty Crocker says sternly. “You will run into her while I give her the official tour the factory’s business and sciences division tomorrow.”

“How old is she?” Dirk asks. He sits down next to Roxy.

“I adopted her and her brother as newborns over sixteen earth years ago.”

Taken aback, Dirk responds, “I never would have guessed you were that old.”

“Careful where you trod, Mr. Strider,” BC warns. “Despite the vast amount of workers I have hired over the years, I still know every face that come and go through my doors.”

“Well pardon me, your majesty.” He bows sarcastically.

“When you are finished, deliver it straight to my office,” she says, standing up from the wooden chair. She walks out silently, not even saying goodbye.

“Finally,” Dirk says, taking her seat. How is it not warm? She’d been sitting there for about fifteen minutes. Roxy seemed to pick up on his confusion.

“She’s cold-blooded,” she states.

“Yeah, I know. She has no empathy.”

“No, I mean literally.”

“Oh.” He had nothing to say except, “I’m convinced now.”

Roxy gives him a disappointed look.

“What?”

She just shakes her head. “I have no idea what to build for a spoiled rich brat.” She sighs and bends down to lay her chin on the table. “She’s probably got a better cellular phone than I do. Not like I care, but…”

“Hey, didn’t she tell you to befriend her?”

“It’s gonna be hard. I don’t know how to talk to teenagers. I’m twice her age! I feel old just thinking about this.”

He reaches over the table and rubbed her shoulder. “You’ll be fine. Just talk about Backstreet Boys or something. Girls love that shit nowadays.”

“Who?”

“They’re popular. That’s all you need to know.”

She laughs softly. “Yeah, okay. I’ll make sure to do my homework. Pick up a teeny bopper magazine or something.” They’re interrupted by the sound of muffled crying on the baby monitor in Dirk’s pocket. “I’ll go. Make me some coffee, please? It’s probably Rose. She’s very prompt.” She drags herself up and out.

“No prob.” He gets up and gets out two mugs. He’s in the middle of scooping the beans when he hears a shrill scream. He drops the measuring spoon and rushes upstairs, ready to fight. “Roxy!”

“DIRK, WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT THING?!” she shrieks, holding a crying Dave and pointing. Rose is still crying in her crib. He follows her finger and sees that Li’l Cal had fallen over again. He walks over to Rose and picks her up to calm her down. The small girl seems to like his shirt, and proceeds to slobber all over it, shutting up. That was easy.

“I don’t see anything.”

“That fuckin’ doll! What is it doing in there?”

“Li’l Cal?” He gestures to the crib. “He’s cool.”

“Get him out of there. _Now._ ”

“Why?”

“I walked in to tend to Rose and saw that she woke Dave up, and as soon as I turned on the lamp, he started crying and kicking it! I don’t mind but… I think you just scarred him for life!”

“He’s only three days old! He’s not even going to remember this.”

“Just get it out.” She goes on to baby talk Dave, who doesn’t stop crying for a good ten minutes. In the meantime, he gets his childhood friend out and tosses it over his shoulder. Guess it’s back to the box.

“Hey Rox,” he says, looking down at the koala on his chest.

“Hmm?” Dave stopped crying by then. She brushes past to put him back in the crib.

“She won’t let go.” Roxy looks over to see him trying to peel the baby death gripping baby off his shirt.

“Maybe she loves her daddy that much,” she teases.

Dirk can’t help but blush. Maybe having a daughter won’t be so bad.

* * *

 

Going back to work after finally having a child is super surreal. Roxy is greeted by her usual team of scientists, which she leads. She still feels fat as fuck now that there’s no kids in there anymore. She unconsciously puts a hand on her stomach when her colleagues weren’t looking. Dirk doesn’t work today, so he’s taking care of them. She hopes they’re okay, she trusts Dirk enough to not call once every half an hour. She resolved herself to call only every hour, on the hour.

Lunch time finally rolls around. Moment of truth. She takes a deep breath and grabs a shit-ton of folders stuffed with outdated scientific documents from 1985. She knew these would come in handy one day. Any minute now, Mrs. Crocker will come by with her daughter, and Roxy will do her thing.

Finally, she heard the clacking of two pairs of heels on the tile floors. She picks up the ridiculous pile of folders and makes her way out of her office.

“Here is our science division,” Mrs. Crocker tells her daughter. Speaking of which, she never even bothered to tell Roxy her daughter’s name. Much like her lack of pop culture knowledge that she spent half the night brushing up on (all she knew about the subject was what was printed in GameGirl magazine, which is just video games for girls), she doesn’t know much about the personal life of the family at the top of the baking business. Not much was actually known about them, so Roxy ungracefully rage quit the entire mission.

While trying to remember the tune to a song she heard on the radio the previous night, she takes a misstep and tumbles down way too early, making the papers scatter. Great. This wasn’t part of the plan. She slowly and awkwardly gets down to her knees and starts putting them back together. She’s not pregnant anymore, but her size hasn’t changed much the past few days.

“Do you need help?” a shy voice asks, interrupting Roxy’s inner griping. The short girl with baby blue eyes and a pixie cut wearing a white dress and a bright red apron is bending over her paperwork and offering a hand. She looks genuine enough. Her mother is nowhere to be seen.

“Yes, uh, thank you,” Roxy stammers. She didn’t expect that.

Roxy also didn’t expect the girl to get on her own knees to collect them along with her.

“No, you’re gonna get your dress dirty. You don’t have to.”

“It’s fine,” she replies. It’s more like an I-hate-this-dress-anyway comment.

Roxy pops the question. “Are you Betty Crocker’s daughter?”

“Jane,” she corrects. “Just Jane please.”

Small talk? “So how about them Backstreet Guys?”

“Who?”

Shoot! “Never mind.” This is going downhill fast. Think of something, Roxy!

“Are you pregnant?” Jane asks suddenly. She stopped collecting the papers, staring at the still-swollen belly.

“No! No, I just had them. Twins.” She can’t help but smile to herself. Two bundles of stress and eighteen years of negative funds.

“What’s it like?” She realized she wasn’t helping anymore and continued.

“Being pregnant?” Roxy laughs. “A lot of vomiting and eating weird shit.”

Jane giggles. “No, I mean…” She leans in to whisper, “Sex?” She turned red as she said it.

That. Was. _Adorable_. She snorts. “Well, I’m not one to kiss and tell but,” she leans in to whisper, “it was epic.” It was a half-drunken experience, but still.

“I’m sorry, that was—” the young girl cut herself off. “I’ll just go now.” She gets up to leave, but then gets back down and picks up more papers.

“You’re a very sweet young lady,” Roxy says, trying to comfort her. “One comment about sexual desires don’t make you a bad person.” She winks. “I’m Roxy Lalonde. Nix the doctor bit, it’s a bit much. You can just call me Roxy.” She reaches out her hand.

Jane blinks, then smiles meekly, taking the hand.

“I’m sorry, I have to get back to work.” She puts the papers back in the folders, and the folders in a neat pile.

“I got it.”

“Thanks.” Roxy struggles to stand up. “Ugh, I’m fat as fuck.” As she straightens herself up, Jane takes the entire pile easily. “It was nice meeting you.”

“You, too. Where were you going with these? They’re from 1985.”

Shit. “I was going to the shredding room.” Was she supposed to hang out with her this long? She’s not opposed, but…“But you don’t have to. Your mother’s waiting.”

“This was the last stop, I think. Besides, I’m glad she’s gone. It’s nice to talk to people who don’t run away at the sight of me.”

Ah. “Your mom, right?”

“Yes.” She scowls. “I hate her.”

“Whoa.” Roxy doesn’t have much experience being a mother, but she thinks she would be devastated if she ever had that kind of relationship with Rose. Roxy vows that she will be the best mother anyone has ever seen.

They both walk to the shredding room, side-by-side and silent.

“Aren’t you tired?”

“Not really. I’m stuck in my room a lot, so sometimes I do pushups and stuff.” She shrugs.

Hmm. Interesting. The wheels are turning in Roxy’s brain. “Don’t you watch TV?”

“I don’t have a TV. My brother has a TV.”

“I would have figured you had some big screen or something. Or your own theater in the basement!”

“Well if we did, it sure would have been nice to tell me about it!” Jane laughs.

“Haha, yeah,” Roxy laughs awkwardly. Something in her gut is telling her that there might be more going on in that house than everyone else believes. She’s the exact opposite of spoiled: she’s _deprived_.

“Between you and me, I think he took it from the factory somewhere.”

Wait a minute. “Does said TV have a deep scratch on the left side of the box?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh Em Gee.”

“ _Was_ that your TV?”

“It was in the break room up until last year. So that’s where it went!” Roxy isn’t sure whether to laugh or cry because that friggin’ TV disappeared. It was the only escape in this dreadful place. They got a new one, but there are a few people still attached to that old thing.

“I’m sorry, my brother is an idiot.”

Roxy knows what to build Jane for Christmas. They get rid of the papers and save the folders, returning quickly to Roxy’s office. They stayed there and talked for another hour before Mrs. Crocker came back for her heiress.

“Did you have fun with your new friend?” the seven-foot CEO asks Jane.

“She’s not—” Jane is cut off by her mother.

“I’m glad you’re making friends.” Roxy’s eye twitches. Something’s off.

“Oh.” Jane looks down at the floor, wringing her hands.

“Within the company, I trust your judgment, Jane.”

“So, I’m allowed to talk to Roxy?”

“We’ll see.”

There it is. That spark of life in Jane’s eyes that only a domineering authoritative figure like Betty Crocker can give back. Jane looks back at Roxy with a big smile, so full of hope. They wave goodbye as Mrs. Crocker leads her daughter away.

The day before Christmas Eve, Roxy knocks on Mrs. Crocker’s office door, gift in hand. How she found time to make this thing was incredible, considering she had to share the workload with Dirk and the kids, buy them presents, exercise, and _still_ have to go to work. She’s pretty sure she has also made some technological advances and breakthroughs in miniaturization over the past few weeks. Jane’s going to love it.

“Enter!” the woman calls from the inside. Roxy opens the wooden door carefully. “I suspect the gift you made is finished?” she asks, not looking up from her work.

“Yes, ma’am,” Roxy replies. She presents the plastic crescent shape to her boss, cradled in both hands. “Here it is.”

“What is it?” Now she looks up.

“It’s a crown. For communication purposes, mostly. The little circle button on the top picks up radio waves and displays them on any surface with you push it twice.” Its look is a simple off-white color with a red spoon symbol on the button itself.

Mrs. Crocker leans back in her oversized chair, her fingers resting on her chin as if she were deep thought. Finally, she says, “Rejected.”

What?! “I beg your pardon?” She lost sleep over this thing! What the hell!

“It’s a fantastic product. Just change it to red.”

“Oh.” Well, that changes things. “Alright. I’ll have it for you by tomorrow.” That was unnecessarily nerve-wracking. She did that on purpose.

Roxy returned the next day, the final product spray-painted red and the spoon hand-painted white. Using white-out, of course. Some sacrifices had to be made. She delivers it once again to Betty Crocker, who simply takes it and leaves it on the desk, and then tells Roxy to leave.

“Will that be all, Mrs. Crocker?”

“Yes. If she likes this, you will do this every year, twice a year. Your payment will be included in your salary.”

Roxy really detests this woman. “Thank you. Merry Christmas!” She was glad her boss wasn’t looking, because she had the most sarcastic smirk on her face.

“Leave.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Bah, humbug to you too, you stupid alien. As soon as the door closes, she gives a double middle finger combo in the CEO’s general direction.

* * *

 

Over the first few months of their existence, the proud parents systematically and strategically took turns taking care of Dave and Rose. They switched off days where they would make dinner, from the extremely simple ramen noodle cups to barbecue in Roxy’s backyard. If one person has dinner, the other has diaper duty. It worked. The growing problem was when one went to work, the other one needed to stay home. Dirk hadn’t been back to his apartment more than twice in three months. When Dirk stayed home, he got really good at multi-tasking; he just used his flash-step skills.

Roxy insisted that Rose have her last name, and that Dave have Dirk’s last name. He didn’t disagree. Dave had grown on him like a barnacle and so he bought the little guy identical shades. What had also grown on him was the new show that Rose babbled at when he flipped the TV to the local kid’s network. Colorful, talking horses romped around the screen, talking in high-pitched voices, and for some reason there was a flying rainbow that made shit happen in a bad situation that only one little girl can control. He decided to buy every single fucking toy this franchise has, except for the ones with small pieces. Rose loved them, and he vows that he will never tell her that he actually bought them for himself for when she grows out of it.

April came, and Roxy was at her workdesk more often. He asked her why.

“It’s Jane’s birthday on the thirteenth.”

“Did the batterbitch put you up to this?”

“I’m getting paid for it.”

“Well, don’t let me interrupt.” He steps to the kitchen and reheats some leftover pizza. “Pizza?”

“Yessss,” she hisses excitedly. She glances at the clock. “Aren’t you glad Rose doesn’t cry at the same time every night anymore?”

“I was getting used to her predictability.” Dirk shrugs.

“Oh well.”

“What are you making this time?” He remembers helping her make the last gift. All he had to do was teach her everything he knew. The only thing he was remotely interested in when he went to college was engineering and robotics. It didn’t pan out, since he found his true passion in the arts. The _rapping_ arts. It’s the arts. _The arts_.

“Something super simple,” she replies with a snarl. She continues to doodle some frightening beasts indeed on the expensive blueprint paper scattered across the makeshift workbench, otherwise known as the kitchen table.

“Is that a pillow?”

“Super. Simple.”

“Oh-kay.” He pauses. “You should hide something in it. You said she’s deprived, right? So why not a weapon or something?”

She stops working and slams her chewed pencil down on the table. “Dirk, you are a _genius!_ ”

“Thanks.”

“But now I have to make the weapon.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Not helping.” She smirks. “Why don’t you help then? I’m going to need one of your shitty katanas.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

Staredown.

A baby’s crying alerts them to get back to business.

* * *

 

                _dear jane_  
                roxy speaking. im going to give you a really cool thing, but you have to put it together yourself.  
                over the next few months, i will send you different parts and clues. its about 4 pieces total.  
                anyway i hope you actually get this note.  
the clue: keep your eye out in july for the letter why.  
                roxy

Roxy folds the note neatly, tucking it into the last bit of plush she hadn’t sewn yet. Sewing is hard, she discovered over the last few days. Dirk knew a little about sewing, so she asked for his help. In the end, it took just about all of her fingers being pricked, a yard and a half of ruined fabric, and a sacrificial pillow, used for its stuffing and thrown out like stale cookies.

In all honesty, it looked like that one hideous beast from that cop show that’s all the rage nowadays. What was it called again? Detective Problems? Sleuth People? She’s never seen it, but she’s seen the promos, and all the animatronics look really dumb. But maybe she’ll like it? It’s beginning to grow on her now. Jane’s birthday is in two days, on Monday, and the gift needs to be delivered by tomorrow.

Something taps her shin under the table. She peers under and sees Dave sitting there, wearing a tiny pair of silly anime shades. Now where in the world did he get those? And how did he get there? She must have been more out of it than she thought not to notice him coming. He continues babbling quietly. He is really, _really_ cute sitting there in his little shirt with the heart in the middle and shorts and tiny sneakers.

“Roxy!” Dirk barges in, huffing and puffing. Using the table and chair, she turns herself to see him leaning against the doorframes with both hands, exhausted and sweating. He’s wearing a black tank and matching exercise pants and sneakers, also in silly anime shades. Mm, dem arms. She notices his hair and raises her eyebrows. Is he…?

“Is your hair spiked _and_ slicked back at the same time?” she asks, amused.

“Uh…” He swallows uncomfortably and pushes his glasses back up his nose. “Okay, you got me.” He leans up against one doorframe and crosses his arms nonchalantly.

“Dirk,” she warns sternly. He’d better not say what she thinks he’s going to say.

“I’ve been taking Dave out a lot lately.”

More sternly. “ _Dirk._ ”

“I’ve been training him in the art of flash-stepping.”

Even sterner. “Dirk! What about Rose?!”

“I’ve been taking her with us. She just sits there, judging us.”

“Oh my god.” She turns back to the stuffed “thing”, her hands hovering just outside her ears. “Unbelievable.” He has not spoken to her about this. Raising Dave and Rose is supposed to be a team effort! They’re supposed to communicate about things! “I thought we had a plan going here.”

“I’ve been multitasking.” He finally wanders over to the table. He pauses next to her, then suddenly looks under the table. “Huh. I could have sworn…”

She looks too. Dave had disappeared. Where did he go? “What are you looking for?”

“Our son. He’s been learning too well.”

Roxy’s not sure whether to laugh or yell at him some more. She goes with a combination of snorting and sighing with exasperation.

“He was here, wasn’t he?” he says, coming back up by his forearms. The table creaks as he does it.

“Maybe. Speaking of where, where is our _daughter?_ ”

“Napping. It is noon, after all.” That’s when they’re put down for their naps.

“Check the crib. He’s probably tired.”

“Why didn’t I think of that?” he mutters to himself, wiping his forehead with his palm. “Nice thing, by the way. Is that the finished product?”

“Yup. I couldn’t have done it without your help. That sai really came in handy.”

“No problem.” He exhales, turning away. “I gotta go sneak up on Dave now. I still have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

“Before you go, I want to let you know that we need to talk about this. I’m not against it, I just… You could have just done it differently.”

He stops at the doorway. “If I asked, you probably would have said no.”

“Really?” she says incredulously. “It’s father-son bonding time! I wouldn’t have said no to that!” Maybe.

He turns back to smile. “You’re awesome.” He comes back and kisses her forehead lightly, then flashes away. She closes her eyes and smiles. He’s still a bit rough around the edges, but he’s getting there.

“Maybe we should get a nanny,” she mumbles to herself. Last time she made Jane a gift, she was paid a thousand bucks, because apparently, Jane loved it. If it happens again, that’s enough for someone to take care of just Rose for a straight month. He or she could even be on call if both Dirk and Roxy have to work.

It’s something to consider, for sure.

July comes. Roxy stashes the next piece of Jane’s gift behind the “Y” in the lighted Betty Crocker Corporation sign in the on-site gardens. She wrapped it up and tied a magnet to it, and it stuck nicely. After she met Jane that first time, Roxy noticed her wandering around there after hours. Hopefully, Jane would have understood the clue, or gotten it at all. And hopefully, the gardeners won’t notice it there and throw it out.

Dave and Rose have been growing like weeds. Rose is already attempting to read by herself, and Dave outcrawls his mother every time he needs to be changed or bathed. “Outcrawl” meaning “disappearing just before she gets her hands on him”. It must be the breastmilk. She should probably wean him off soon. He’s getting too strong. Rose is suspiciously more obedient than Dave. She still cries and laughs like a normal child, but… She might be just as smart as her mother. She’s proud of both of them so far.

This time, the note to Jane read:

                _janey!_  
                happy summer! this is part two of your birthday present. well its a little late so its just a pain ol present now. the final piece will be in your christmas present.  
                have you guessed what it is yet? no its not a cooking utensil, but it sure looks like one.  
the clue: this daily never fails never stops never ails… except on sundays

That means the mail. She’s going to send the last piece in the mail, disguised as a video game disc. Here’s to hoping Jake has a video game system of some sort.

* * *

 

“Can I talk to you?” Dirk asks Roxy one night. She’s lying in bed, trying to read a book about some computer system being released next year. She keeps ahead of the times to stay valuable, he guessed. He just hates it when it cuts into time they have alone. Dave and Rose are sleeping through the night without crying at least once nowadays, so they find themselves with free time to stay in and just watch TV or talk or read. Lately, he’s been thinking about her a lot, and how much he admires how she’s juggling all of the shit she does. They both do their share of the chores, but taking on the extra things like Jane Crocker’s birthday gifts and exercising. Nine months and she’s almost back to her pre-baby physique… Wow, he really fucked up her life, didn’t he?

“Sure,” she answers, looking up at him promptly. “What’s going on?” she asks as Dirk circles the bed and sits in the empty space.

He’s been rehearsing the questions for days, but he still can’t find the guts to ask them. “Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.” She closes the manual and drops it on the ground.

“Did I fuck up your life?” Wrong question, dumbass.

“What?” She shifts closer to him.

“I mean, you already had a life of your own, and then I came along because I wanted money, and then…” He gestures to his surroundings. “This.”

“You just gestured to all of my house.”

“Sorry, I just—”

“Let me stop you there.” Shit. “I know what’s happening here.” She puts a comforting hand on his hand. “And it’s not your fault. I actually blame my dumb, stupid behavior that night. I was drinking, I made you drink, and then I coerced you. It happened, I paid for it, and I’m over it. You’re good, mister Strider.” She gives him an awkward smile.

“But are you happy? I still feel that I shouldn’t have done this to you, drinking heavily or not.” He’d been beating himself up for a while now, but every time he looked at those two balls of platinum-blonde fluff that he can safely call his children, and despite the sleepless nights and the smelly diapers and the constant smell of baby powder permanently etched in his nose and the fact that he hasn’t dropped any sick rhymes for the past year, he can’t help but feel happy, and guilty for being so happy. Roxy literally did all the work. He just helped and did what she said like the sad scum he is.

“Of course I am!” Say again? “All my life, I have dedicated myself to my work, my education, and more work. The only solace I had was watching cartoons and drinking martinis when I got home. You should have seen me back then. I wasn’t as lively as I am now.”

He raises his eyebrows in disbelief. “Really.”

“I was boring. I led a boring life. Then I got a job right out of school and created a mutant cat and I kept one of the kittens. For five years, I was that sad woman with no life and a pet cat who sometimes went to bars.” She shifts her position. “Then Mutie died and I nearly became an alcoholic. So you can tell where this is goin’.” He nods.

Dirk never would have guessed in a million years that Roxy was lonely, or that she resorted to alcohol when she was.

“Then Mr. H. came to me and asked me give you a tour, since he was busy. I said yes because I just thought, ‘Oh, it’s just some kid who dropped out of college to find himself but came back empty so now he’s getting a job because he still lives with his parents’, but it turned out to be one of the best nights of fun I have ever had.” She winks.

“Okay, I see how it is,” he says sarcastically. He gets up and walks in slow motion, exaggerating every single movement. “I’m just a walking boy toy, right?”

“Oh, shut up Di-Stri, I know you’re messing with me!” she laughs.

“Nope.” He slows down even more. He feels a lot better, but he’ll need some time to process. “One more question.”

“Lay it on me.”

He leans on the bed with both hands. “Do you still plan to keep that promise you yelled at me in the delivery room? The one about ‘never again’?” He’s just curious.

“Get it off me.” He found his answer. “In all seriousness, though, probably not. It’s not you, it’s just that I’m sick of sex for now.”

Dirk nods in agreement. “I’m with you there. I was actually practicing abstinence before you came along. Too many degenerates wanted my ass, and I was sick of both genders equally.”

“I am so sorry I broke your abstinency thing.”

“Is that even a word?”

“Of course it is!”

“No it’s not.”

“You’re no fun.”

“Hm.” He lets the side of his mouth curve upward. “That’s me, a tight-wadded homosezual who’s had two kids with his best friend.” He takes her soft cheek in his hand. “And loves every second of it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter's title brought to you by: Paramore  
> Next will be the trolls for a while. ^^


	9. Are We Trying Too Hard?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More splainin' ahead. And a flashback. And plot developments.  
> And the angry one says how he really feels.

We Begin With A Necessary Flashback

* * *

 

“Kanaya, what are you planning?” Gamzee had been in the brig for a full day, and Vriska heard nary a sound  from there. It made her think he was planning something. Like her moirail was planning something now. Vriska finally cornered Kanaya in her quarters.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, without looking up from her sewing. Rufioh ruined another shirt trying to fit it over his stupid dumbass horns that were getting too large for his body. Someone should teach him how to dress, instead of Kanaya making him new clothes every time his growing horns fucks something up. It gave Kanaya a good excuse to avoid Vriska. But not today.

“You’re hiding something from me in my own treasure room.”

“I thought it was _ours_.” She paused, looking up with her eyes. “And you did promise me a single stash of treasure for my own.” She looked back down and continues her work.

“It _is_ ours! That’s why you need to share information with your own captain!” Vriska didn’t want to play the moirail card, but she didn’t have a choice besides mind control. _No one_ makes plans without Captain Vriska Mindfang Spinneret knowing about it, _especially_ her own first mate! In a calm voice, she asked, “What’s in the chest, Kanaya? I’m your moirail, I need to know.”

Kanaya paused again, lowering her sewing and sighing. She stared in front of her for a long time before answering, “An egg.”

“An egg?” Really? What’s so great about an egg? “What’s so great about an egg?”

She bit her upper lip and chewed it slightly. “It’s from my lusus. My mother grub. I cut it out of her with my chainsaw before I escaped my hive for the last time, killing her in the process.”

“A Mother… What the fuck?!” Vriska suddenly stood up, then bent down to shake Kanaya’s shoulders. “That’s treason! There are only four left in existence! Well three now, but… Our entire crew will be slaughtered if they find it here!”

“Stop telling me things I already know.” How did she remain so calm?! “I have a very good reason for doing the things I do.”

Vriska failed to resist slapping her in the face. “How dare you risk my life for whatever you’re planning! Without me! No one makes plans around here without my consent!”

“You need to meddle more than I do, am I right?” Kanaya laughed softly. “We truly are meant to be palemates.” Was she talking to herself?

“Tell me.”

“Alright.” She got up and put away her supplies, lightly pushing Vriska out of the way. It took way too long. What a stupid hobby. It has too many pieces and takes way too long to clean. Not that she’s very neat herself, but that’s not the point. Kanaya gestured to her pile of fabric and sat on it. “Ready when you are.”

Vriska plopped down front of the pile in a huff, crossing her arms. Kanaya just shrugs in response.

“I did it because I am sick of this planet’s… shenanigans,” she said like she was getting it off her chest. “I know our ancestors had some history, and not much besides that is known about my own outside of the original Mindfang’s journal. What I do know is that she was a part of something bigger than ourselves, and I think I believe that I want to change it, too. By any means necessary.”

“I didn’t know you had it in you, Kanayaaaaaaaa.” Vriska felt her smirk get bigger than she intended. Kanaya had balls, that’s for sure. “But let’s say that we join forces, which you have already taken the liberty of doing without my knowledge but I’m allowing it to slide because apparently we’re so similar.” She shrugs. “I’ve read my ancestor’s journal too, so I know that her reputation was only heightened when it came to her beliefs. And now that I have become such a successful pirate,” she flips her hair over her shoulder, “I think this will do the same for me.”

Kanaya snorts uncharacteristically.

Vriska squints her eyes.

“I apologize. Go on.”

“So the egg thingy, how does it work?”

“I have to incubate it in a few months, but after the new mother grub hatches, all we need are buckets to—”

“Skip the details.”

“Right. Of course, the higher the blood caste, the longer it takes for those grubs to hatch. And since you’re the highest adult troll aboard, it shouldn’t take more than… eight sweeps for a new ceruleanblood to come around?”

“Perfection.”

“Indeed. It also all depends on the environment. Mother grubs used to thrive in the caves because they were perfect for being private, damp, and still.” She glanced around her quarters. “This ship is anything but. Well, the brig is damp enough, however that’s only because putting the new mother grub in there is the sole reason I suggested it be able to withstand lusii in the first place.” It all made sense now.

“So what other planet did you have in mind?”

Kanaya sighed again. “That’s where my plan falls short. Clearly, I did not think this through before jumping on top of it.” Vriska only raised an eyebrow. “The internet raves about a fantastical place called ‘Beforus,’ but as soon as I started studying your star maps, I realized it was a ridiculous and made-up farce.”

“It sure is,” Vriska scoffed. “I didn’t even know it was a _thing_ on the internet. It’s a stupid idea and it’s fake and doesn’t exist.”

“I only chose it because it was the planet that older trolls had forcibly immigrated to. I figured it was a good place to start over. But lately, the age limit seems to rise. It’s almost like a conspiracy now. I have no faith in Alternia now.”

“You are so depressing.”

“I’m not sure what you mean. I can’t have faith in a world that has no good things anymore. However, I do have one thing I have faith in.”

“And what is that?”

“The future. If I can do something about it, then I can have faith in it.”

“They have a name for that. It’s called being a _control freak_.”

“It takes one to know one,” Kanaya said, shrugging.

-

Karkat and Eridan prematurely react. The same way, no less.

“What do you mean Beforus isn’t real?!” they shout simultaneously.

“I drew the small planet with a colored wax stick, you moron,” Vriska says, chastising Karkat’s dumbassery. “You should have at least picked up on that.”

“The real morons are you two!” he accuses, pointing at Vriska, then Kanaya. All Vriska can do is laugh.

“To continue my story,” Kanaya says loudly, raising her hand to motion the angry one to sit down. He does. “I’m afraid we had less time than I anticipated. For the last few weeks we were on Alternia, we were going to wait an additional four weeks before departing,  so we could safely make it to another planet that we’re quite sure is abandoned.”

“And what planet is that?” he asks gruffly.

“It’s the same planet that our beloved empress had visited so many sweeps ago. Official reports say it’s uninhabited, even though the conditions observed are quite temperate and apparently teeming with wildlife. What little information we’ve gathered so far about its sun has confirmed that the light it emanates is not as harmful in extended exposure.”

“There’s one small problem,” Eridan says. “The freakish subliminal imagery Gam talked about earlier with us said that she disappeared on that planet.” Vriska shoots him a look. More information she should have known about. “What?”

Looking back at Kanaya, Vriska sees that she is looking down at her hands. “I have reason to believe that when one’s connection with the Gl’bgolyb is lost, it means they’re gone. I have no definitive proof, though.” Vriska remembers talking to Tavros about the lusus-troll connections. With some castes, like fuchsia, teal, and brown, it is entirely possible to have connections with a lusus through minds. It’s not quite mind control per se, but she can’t remember the rest. It was all nonsense to her. Now she wishes she would have listened when he babbled on and on about that stuff in bed.

“If I may contribute,” Feferi pipes up. “At this distance, I can still hear my lusus’ thoughts. She’s worried that I’ll never return to the ocean, but she’s very patient!” She smiles a smile that makes Vriska want to gag. It’s too happy. No wonder Tavros fell for that. “I told her that I will return home soon, so there’s no need to worry about her letting out a vast glub!”

“Thank you, Feferi. You have clammed my fears.” Ugh!

“Was that a fish pun, Kanaya?” Feferi asked.

“Was it good?”

“Idiots!” Karkat intervenes. “We can’t go back now!” Everyone turns to him. He looks about to explode. Vriska imagines Karkat getting so angry that he combusts spontaneously, and it’s a hilarious sight. “Literally everything that we’ve worked for to change Alternia is now in the fucking sewers!” He turns to Feferi. “What happened to all that bravado you had, huh?! Where is it!” To Eridan, “I’m pretty sure you never wanted to change anything!” And to Nepeta, “And I hate to fucking say it, but you’re the only asshole on this damn ship who even thinks about these things anymore!” She blinks, but is cut off by more yelling. He turned to the rest of the group. “Everyone is so wrapped up in their own problems, pitying themselves for no reason! I’ve gotten over it! Nepeta has gotten over it, _you two_ never gave a shit about Alternia in the first place,” he points to Kanaya and Vriska, which she agrees with now that he pointed it out. “And now that I have your attention, Feferi what the _fuck?!_ You took my ancestor’s journal, went all gung-ho about his shit visions, and now you’re… you’re…” He viciously wipes away tears.

“Karkat, I—”

“TEREZI DIED BECAUSE OF YOU!” he shouts at the top of his lungs. At that, he storms off to the door like a spoiled wiggler. He stops and turns to Vriska. He looks about to say something, but doesn’t, slamming the door open against the adjacent wall. That was cold, even for Karkat.

As Vriska saw all this unfold, she can’t help but agree with him.

-

“It’s all my fault,” Feferi manages to say. Everything was. Karkat was right. She got the journal from Terezi, who had taken it to blackmail him so that they would become matesprits eventually, but it ended up not working out that way. She gave it to Feferi to help hide it, and what better place than under the sea? But then she started reading it for fun, and the rest was history. She got Eridan to help, then she hired Karkat to help her, and both were reluctant. She should have known betta than to force them into something as dangerous as politics. If she hadn’t even cracked it open, had that stupid curiosity get the better of her, her friends would still be alive.

“Fef, don’t cry,” Eridan says. She looks to her side, where Eridan is offering his own cape to wipe away her tears. She didn’t even realize her eyes were leaking. She accepts it, wiping the water away. “Come on,” he whispers with open arms. Sniffling, she scoots closer and he wraps his arms around her.

“I hate to interrupt, but I do have one more point to say about the planet we’re headed to,” Kanaya says.

“Go ahead, I’m fine now,” Feferi says, giving a weak smile and resting her hands on Eridan’s forearms. She really is, she promises herself.

“It may be entirely possible to make it a new Alternia. Repopulate, so to speak.” Feferi felt Eridan shifting his position. “If this works, we can make the rules: no more empresses, no more violence, and the only loss we will suffer is after a long and happy life.”

Feferi never would have thought of that, making a new place for trolls to live! She hasn’t told her lusus yet, but instead of trying to change a place so well established in tradition and corruption and tyranny, so conservative that it rips itself apart, she can make a new one instead. She lets her imagination run wild at what kind of place she could create.

“At the moment, I feel that I have explained everything, so we will adjourn.”

“Kanaya, please.” Vriska puts a hand in front of Kanaya’s face. “I’m captain, so I end the meetings.” She pauses. “Go away!”

They all do so, save Kanaya, who shakes her head at Vriska’s retreating figure, and Feferi and Eridan.

“Kanaya, can I ask you something?” Feferi says shyly.

“Yes?”

“Can we, Eridan and I, can we borrow your pile of fabric? I need a feelings jam.” She decides that now is a good time and place to finally have one. It seatainly has been a while.

“Of course,” Kanaya answers with a gentle smile. “Take all the time you need. We still have eight more months before we get there.”

“Thank you, Kanaya! Eridan?” She takes his hand.

“Yeah!” he replies a little too loudly. He flushes violet and looks away. He’s so cute.

-

“Karkat, I need to speak with you for a moment.” Kanaya has been hounding him for months. If she wants to apologize, then she can lick his bone-bugle until she’s blue in the face. Oh wait, she doesn’t have blue blood, so that’ll _never happen!_ He’s been burying himself in star maps, away from everyone except Vriska sometimes.

“No,” he replies.

“Please hear me out.”

“No.”

“I need to know something that you know.”

“No!”

“Please Karkat, it’s important!”

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no! I don’t care!”

“It’s about our ances—”

“I don’t fucking care!” He used to give a shit about Kanaya because she was the only sane one on this bleeding asshole ship. But clearly, she never gave a shit about their home planet, politically or not, so she basically betrayed him.

“I need to know!”

“Shut the fuck up! I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care!”

He feels a hand on his shoulder stopping him. Before he can rip himself away, he’s forced to turn backwards where he sees Kanaya holding a chainsaw and about to rev it.

“Shit!”

“Please…” Her face is definitely pleading, her lips lightly pursed and her eyes an unmistakable sheen and bloodshot. It doesn’t match her pirate garb.

Karkat breathes in, letting his deprived lungs get some air. “Okay,” he sighs, defeated. “Do you want to sit here in the hallway or…” They’re just outside the consumption room, which should be locked when no one is eating in there.

“Here,” she answers, putting the chainsaw away after turning it back into a tube of lipstick. She takes out a ring of keys and unlocks the room, both of them entering alone and locking the door behind again.

Karkat picks a table nailed to the floor and sits in a bench that is also nailed to the floor. Not much room, but it’s better than the top deck. “Ask.”

“A few months ago, when you were yelling at Feferi, you mentioned something about you ancestor’s journal.”

“Yeah?”

“And if my assumptions are correct, you have bright red blood, am I correct?”

“Get to the point.”

“We may have, well not us, our ancestors may have known each other intimately.”

Karkat rests his chin in his hand, highly concerned.

“I don’t know much about her, but I think that we might be connected through it.” She struggles with her words. He guesses he would struggle too if he was trying to make a connection between ancestries.

Wait a minute. “I, uh…”

“Karkat, what does his journal say about someone named…” She swallows carefully. “The Dolorosa?”

That’s it! He knows now! Kanaya’s been so familiar to him, but he’s never seen her before in his life. He has that fucking journal memorized, and he remembers a drawn sketch of a female troll with horns similar to Kanaya’s with short hair and billowing clothes. It was colored, but it was a faded brownish-green color. It really did look like Kanaya in a dress. The picture was titled “The Dolorosa” on the bottom of the page. “She raised me and supported me. I would not have lived if it were not for her.”

“The look on your face means yes?” she asks.

“More than yes,” he answers, half laughing. “She rescued my ancestor from death! I wouldn’t be fucking _alive_ if it weren’t for her!” There were a lot of pages about her in it. More maybe than even his ancestor’s matesprit.

“Do you have it? Can I read it?” she asks excitedly.

“No, it’s long gone.”

Kanaya’s dejected face breaks Karkat’s heart.

“But I know it by memory!” he assures her, trying a bit too hard there.

“Can you tell me about her?” She looks at him eagerly, happily even. At first, he thought she didn’t have many emotions to spare, but now… What is this feeling suddenly developing?

Before Karkat can answer, they are jolted out of their seats and strewn across the room. The door becomes unhinged and hangs open by the deadbolt. That infernal bell is heard from just outside the door.

“Everyone, evasive maneuvers!” Vriska. “We’re headed into an asteroid field! All hands on deck!!!!!!!!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter's title brought to you by: Jason Iscariot  
> SIX HOURS I CAN NEVER GET BACK but i love you guys and this story so it's no biggie


	10. Of Cosmic Love

“I’m thsorry, AA,” Sollux mutters for the two-billionth time since they were forced back on this ship twelve months ago. He hates himself for getting her involved in this bullshit. When he made that deal with Vriska, he didn’t expect to have to cash in so soon, or at all. He thought her dumb pirate plans were all bunk, but _NO_. He had to go and make their home explode in his secret stash of mind honey. Aradia wasn’t too pleased when they had to leave their entire lives behind again, but they kind of had no choice this time.

A groan.

Sollux’s bicolored eyes snap open. He jerks his head up so fast that his helmet computer nearly flies off his head. “Aradia?!” He leans over the small vat and strokes her cheek lightly.

“Solluck?” she breathes. Her eyes aren’t open yet, but she’s definitely waking up!

“I’m here, AA. It’th Thollukth!”

Finally, her eyes flutter open and she looks over to him. “Silly, why are you crying?” she asks, laughing softly.

“I’m not crying.” He blinks, feeling the liquid run down his face. He wipes them away, saying, “I’m not!” Time to man up in front of your matesprit. She tries to get up but he stops her. “Thtay there, you’re in your own cocoon, you don’t have to share.”

“Neat.” She takes a breath and looks around. “Where are we?”

“Vrithka’z ship. We survived and you kind of fainted after we took off.” A pause. “You’ve been gone nearly twelve months.”

Shocked, her eyes widen slightly. “I’m sorry. You must have been lonely.”

“I wasn’t lonely. I came here every day.”

“You didn’t have to,” she says, turning away. He caught a glimpse of her face turning a shade of burgundy.

“Who else do I go to?” he asks.

Awkward silence.

“We’re not swaying.” She noticed. “Where are we?”

“We’re not on Alternia anymore.”

She blinks slowly, then scrunches her eyebrows together. “What?”

“Thpaith. Outer Thpaith. Bluh, that wasth hard to thay.” He sticks out his tongue at the end of that. It’s a stupid habit he developed after saying too many s’s. Aradia giggled when she first heard it, so he never bothered to stop.

After staring at the ceiling for a few seconds, she asks, “How long have I been out?”

Before he could answer, the ship suddenly jostles violently, followed by Vriska yelling and ringing that bell of hers outside the door. The troll children who had been sleeping until now immediately spring from their slime and run out the door to their stations. He should too, now that he had time to think.

“What’s going on?!” she shouts over the bell-clanging. She stumbles out of her cocoon and Sollux catches her with his psionics, leaving her floating midair.

“I have no idea!” He gains his balance again and finds Vriska, taking Aradia with him. He catches her at the stairs. “What the fuck is happening out there?!”

“Asteroids! Thousands of them! Out of nowhere!” She orders some other crew members to other parts of the ship. “I’m going to need all the help I can get, so get your ass to your station!” She rushes up the stairs to the top deck, yelling, “I’m not losing my ship over this!”

He can’t argue with that. Shaking his head, he brings Aradia into his arms and carries her princess-style to the brig, the most secure part of the ship. “You just woke up, so you need to rest.”

“You’re so sweet Sollux. I’m fine, though.” He squints his eyes at her. “Stop being so serious as death!” She hits his shoulder and gives him a sincere smile. He feels only slightly better.

“Okay. See you, AA.” He backs away with a wave and charges back up the stairs, skipping steps. Finally, his mind can be at peace again.

* * *

Karkat feels like he’s going to be sick.

Nope scratch that, he _knows_ he’s going to be sick. The ship being tossed this way and that by Vriska’s terrible driving skills told him that much. Is she even qualified to have a ship this large?!

“Where’s an experienced psionic where I need one!” Vriska shouts, dodging another giant space rock. One thing Karkat can appreciate is that the ship has not been hit. Yet.

“Right here,” Sollux says from behind, a tiny version of himself otherwise known as “Mituna”. How a screeching brat like him was a part of the key to their survival was beyond Karkat’s comprehension.

“It’s about time! Get these stupid rocks out of the way! My sevenfold can only predict a safe passage for a few miles at a time!”

“Aye, aye!”

“Karkat!”

“What!” Karkat yells.

“I need you with Kanaya at the stern with Kanaya! Make sure no one falls overboard! And get your lifeline on, you bumbling idiot! You’re dead weight to me if you die! And dead weight gets thrown overboard!”

He can’t argue with that, so he does what she says. Making sure his rope was secure, he fumbles and slips his way to the back of the ship in the turmoil. Kanaya also struggles to keep herself.

“I assume this is the worst possible time to talk about our ancestors?” she asks, keeping her eyes on the various crew in the sails above.

“You think?” Karkat does the same, finding it hard to find even one troll child.

“Karkat, pay attention!” She points to Cronus about to hit the railing. He rushes over and catches him just in time. Without so much as a “thank you”, he springs away and climbs back to his post.

“What a douche, he didn’t even—” Karkat is interrupted by another order from Kanaya.

“Incoming! Horuss this time!”

“Wait, what?!” _BAM!_ The sweaty child slams into Karkat’s side. Horuss at least mumbles an apology as he scrambles to his feet.

This is it. This is Karkat’s life. Catching falling trolls and releasing them like he was on a fucking fishing expedition. Can it get _any better_ than _this?_

* * *

Aradia ties herself to some of the bars of the cages in the brig. One thing she doesn’t want to do is be thrown about like a corpse in a sarcophagus. Tightening her knot, she nods in satisfaction. She looks up after she is done and is taken aback by the sudden appearance of the spitting image of herself standing in front of her.

“Ohayou, Aradia-chan,” she greets.

“Damara! You’re getting better at surprising me,” Aradia laughs. “But please speak Trollian, I’m a little rusty on my dead languages.”

“Gomen-nasai, Ane-san.” A pause. “Don’t die this time.” And just like that, she vanishes.

She feels a chill. Something about her descendant’s demeanor told her that she wasn’t referencing Aradia’s recent brush with death. She double-checks her ties and slides down the vertical bars to the floor.

“I don’t know much about omens, sis,” a sudden voice breaks through the darkness. She jumped in response. “But I’m about Faygo percent sure that the tiny you speaks motherfucking miracles.”

“What does that even mean?” She keeps her voice even. She’s faced tougher foes than slime-addicted highbloods.

He just giggles to himself creepily.

Aradia sighs, deeming it useless to converse with crazy people. She focused on huddling in her spot, trying not to die.

* * *

After hours of near-death experiences and Captor-Serket teamwork, they clear the field mostly unscathed. Karkat complained of broken limbs, of course, and the ship sustained some scratches, but everyone else was fine, according to Vriska’s mental sweep of the place. She sighs with relief and summons Aranea to take over steering.

“Sollux, keep us at double-light speed,” she orders.

“How long?”

“Shouldn’t be too long.” She uses her special eye to estimate the distance. “Two-and-a-half hours at best. Make sure to slow to half-impulse when we get within two-hundred kilometers. It’ll add half a day to our journey, but…”

“I guarantee you I am more done with thish shit than you are.”

“Then I don’t have to thank you.” She pats his shoulder as she passes by.

Sollux scoffs as she walks away. “Whatever, bitch.”

Vriska eyes her moirail being a bit too pale with a certain mutant, so she makes a bee-line for the pair. “Did anyone die today, Karkat?”

“Fuck you,” he replies.

“Now that we’re free from that debacle, it’ll take about half a day to get to the planet. And since we have some time now…” She meets Kanaya’s gaze coldly. “Kanaya, my quarters?”

“I’ll be down as soon as I get Karkat to his cocoon,” Kanaya says.

“He can find his own. He’s not broken, just bruised. He’ll get over it.” Vriska feels her eye twitch involuntarily. “ _Now_.”

“Fine.” Vriska turns. She hears Kanaya whisper something to Karkat, who responds with a dismissive comment. He’s not a weakling. He can do things without help from others. Like _walking_.

“What do you need?” Kanaya asks as soon as the door is shut behind them.

“Are you pale for him?”

“Who?”

Vriska turns to her quickly. Is she _really_ asking this question right now? “Karkat.”

“Karkat?” she laughs lightly. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You know full well what I’m talking about! You’ve been in his business for months like you want to get in on his quadrants for months now!” It came out a little strong, but her point was made. “Are you pale for him or not?!”

Kanaya sighs, eyes downcast. “It’s not what you think.”

Vriska narrows her eyes. “En _light_ en me,” she says through gritted teeth.

Kanaya looks up, but then looks down again. “He knows things about my ancestor,” she confesses.

“Is that what this is all about? Your ancestor?!” Vriska yells. Kanaya visibly winces. It still came out a lot stronger than she hoped, but she forces herself to calm down. Kanaya’s not cheating, they’re just talking about the past, that’s all! She takes a deep breath. “Sorry I yelled.”

“You’ve had a tough year. You need time to mourn, and for the past twelve months, you’ve been busy navigating us through deep space. No one will blame you if you yell a few times.”

“Thanks. When we get to the planet, I think—” A pause. Vriska has seen this before. That was real slick, Kanaya. Reeeeeeeeal slick. “I think you should tell me why you’re suddenly so invested in your ancestor.”

She hesitates. “Well, it rather uhm… It came on as a gradual curiosity than anything else.” She laughs nervously, like she’ll be hated if she tells the whole story. Pssh. As if. “Karkat’s outburst about eight months ago may have been the catalyst that made my curiosity gain such magnitude.”

“Look Kanaya, as long as you’re not leaving me too, you don’t have to explain a thing.” Mainly because she doesn’t care _that_ much. Kanaya has her own life, and Vriska just needs to learn that not everything is about _her_.

* * *

“Vriska. Vriska!” Sollux’s voice echoes in her head. How in the fuck?

“Before I ask how you reversed my telekinetics and getting into my head, are we there yet?” She sits up stiffly in her pod, groaning aloud. Kanaya was long gone.

“Yes.”

Shit! “How long has it been?”

“Exactly how you calculated. Except for one detail.”

“What.”

“I’m about to pass out. I’m getting Latula’s help right now getting my mind out to you, but I’m  not going to last much longer, and the gravity field for this planet is taking a toll on my already exhausted psionics. You’d—ter—get up—”

“GOGDAMMIT, SOLLUX!” Vriska shouts as the ship suddenly jolts for the eight-trillionth time today. She races out of her quarters, extorting her excellent sea legs, and finally gets to the top deck relatively unharmed. She finds Sollux face-first on the wood, Latula and Mituna shaking him violently in an effort to wake him up. She orders them to get him to the brig, and for the rest of the crew to do the same. The sails were already drawn on all the masts, so she should have full and complete control of her ship.

Her mind wanders back to when she first designed her ship, constantly arguing with the Engineer troll girl. Vriska was told that having a system that constantly recycles the same amount of slime to be filtered back into the exact same pods was a stupid idea since slime was already a renewable resource as well as biodegradable and completely safe for the environment. That “stupid idea” turned out to be pretty handy didn’t it! Hahahahahahahaha!

“Shit!” She nearly crashes into an artificial satellite. There have been a few of them lately. Were they remains from other planets? No, the dark planet below is lit up like a tree on Twelfth Perigree’s Eve. She double-checks to see if everyone had made it to the brig. “Is everyone in the brig?”

There is a flurry of affirmative responses and some angry, scattered thoughts from Karkat.

“Then lock up and buckle down, trolls and gentlemen, we’re going in for a rough landing!” She uses her sevenfold and spots a very small, unlit island in the darkness, just outside of another cluster of islands with lights on them, and steers in its general direction. It’s a bad idea to land on an island that is completely cut off from civilization. But if the natives look nothing like trolls, they’re all going to be fucked.

Then she spots the bow of her magnificent ship turn a bright orange. The ship is going way too fast. They’ll burn up in the atmosphere at this rate! Ships don’t have breaks, and if she can’t find a way to slow down, she’ll have to rely on the sunshields that were only meant to hold air. Another invention that Vriska fought tirelessly for. If she had her way, then they would have had more time to install the thing.

She reaches into her pocket with one hand and pulls out all eight of her eight-sided dice. She gazes at them for a few seconds before closing her eyes and blowing on them. “All the luck,” she whispers to herself. It was too loud to hear, but she knew she said it. If there was any moment where she needed her luck, now would be the time.

The flares at the bow had engulfed half of the ship now and the sunshield is quivering badly.

She takes a chance and rolls the dice.

One-by-one they hit the deck.

1… 2… 3… 4… 5… 6… 7… 8. A Run! Vriska smiles wildly and grips the steering wheel tightly. It’s just enough. “Yes!” All she has to do now is believe in her luck.

* * *

“I have to get the matriorb!” Kanaya screams.

“Kanaya, we have to get to the brig!” Karkat yells back. He’s trying to drag her by her arm, but she is strong against him. “Let’s, _GO!_ ” He wraps his dominant arm around her waist and gropes for something to grab onto.

“Karkat, release me! I have to get it!” She struggles, and finally escapes his grip. She slides along the smooth floor to the treasure room, where she kept the thing.

“Why is that fucking thing so important?!” He chases after her.

“Our mission would be for nothing! I need to—no, we all need it!” She throws the door open and enters, disappearing into the darkness. Karkat nearly slips on his own ass in all the commotion. Her reappearance startles him. She’s clutching the small chest with one arm while balancing herself with the other. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“You’re right, I wouldn’t!” He snatches her hand and leads her to the last set of stairs to the deck below. “What I do understand is that I don’t want you to die for some bullshit mission that probably failed before we left the planet! You’re way more important than some stupid egg, dumbass!” Crap, that probably came out weird.

She didn’t say anything else and let him take her to the brig and used the lifelines to secure themselves to the bars. He hopes that the bars are truly strong enough to withstand the strongest lusii, because he’d rather not die with these assholes.

* * *

_“Karkat.”_

“Five more minutes, Terezi,” he mumbles.

_“Karkat, wake up.”_

“I said five more minutes.”

“Karkat!” _Slap!_

He awakens with a jolt. “Oh my god, what?!” He holds his cheek in his hand and looks to whoever just hit him. “Kanaya?” She’s looming over him like a mother grub.

“We’ve crash-landed. And we’re alive.” She straightens herself up and looks about. “It seems we are in a thick forest.” She sniffs the air. “I can smell salt water, so we must be close to a beach.”

“Where are the others?” he asks, sitting up. Every limb hurts. His head especially. Motherfucking everything hurts.

“I don’t know.”

He glances behind her and sees the matriorb’s box. She managed to rescue it, he notes. “The matriorb?”

“Unharmed.”

“You?”

“Also unharmed.”

“What about me?”

“You’re fine, Karkat.”

“Good.” He lies back down in the dirt and stares through the canopy accusingly, the sky above it a light blue. This planet is fucking weird. “Now what?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter's title brought to you by: Florence + The Machine


	11. What If This Storm Ends And I Can't Find You?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS TOOK TOO LONG TO WRITE.  
> Eridan was a lot fun to write in this chapter, I have to admit.  
> Also, the title is sadder than the chapter (for once).

Where the glub did she land? Eridan thought that he was fortunate to be a seadweller at this moment. He had been searching for Feferi on the ocean floor all night. In his swimming, he discovered that somehow, this planet has pretty much the exact same fish that Alternia does.

He remembers every second of the crash last night. They were all huddled in those fuckin’ cages. He and Feferi were in one of them by themselves, and so was Karkat and Kanaya. Everyone else in the crew had been small enough to fit in the largest one, including Gamzee, Aradia, and Sollux. Vriska didn’t join them, so he can only assume that she either fell overboard or was dead.

“I wonder whose bright idea it was to let the lowbloods drive,” he mutters, air bubbles coming out of his mouth.

On a whim, he looks up to the surface and sees a floating body with long, flowing hair, clinging to a piece of what he recognized as a part of the ship. It’s not as long as Feferi’s so it has to be someone else. He sees horns and immediately swims up to it. As he breaks the surface, he realizes that it’s their captain. He checks for a pulse and finds one. Dam.

“Oi! Captain Mindfang Spinneret! Wake up!” He slaps her around a bit, but she doesn’t stir. He sighs and looks for land. Through the fog, he sees a thick forest on top of a steep cliff. Maybe that island had a beach he could drop Vriska off and continue his search for his beloved Feferi. He detaches her takes her shoulders to backstroke towards the island.

He doesn’t have to swim very far around the island to find a beach low enough to flop the troll girl on. For all he knows, he could have passed Feferi on the way. Before he leaves, he removes his cape and drapes it over the captain. Why does he do so much for someone he detests? He’ll think about it later. For now, keep on swimmin’.

* * *

 

“Aradia!” Sollux calls out, hands cupped around his mouth. He woke up alone for the first time in twelve months. There was evidence of both him and a few more bodies being dragged ashore, but they had all either walked off or got swallowed up by the ocean that lapped at his feet and woke him up just an hour ago.

“You should try the trees, brother,” a voice says from above. He looks up to see Gamzee sitting on one of the branches, leaning against the trunk. He breaks off a twig and puts it between his lips, sucking it like a straw. “Miraculous honey from the heavens, is what I’m sayin’.”

“Gamzee, I don’t have time for your shit. Have you theen Aradia?” he asks vehemently. He can’t lose her again. Can nobody understand his desperation about this?

“Hmmmm…” A pause.

“Hello!”

“Sorry, man. Spaced. I saw her over that way. Just missed her.” He points half-heartedly in the direction Sollux was already headed.

“Thanks,” Sollux answers just as half-heartedly.

He continues calling out until his throat nearly gives out. After what seemed like endless searching, he found a run-down hive, four stories tall, and troll children running about. As he runs towards it, one of them sees him and call the others. One by one, all twelve reveal themselves, emerging from hiding places in and outside the building, and crowd around him asking the most ridiculous questions.

“All of you, shut up! Have any of you theen Aradia?”

“She’s the hunter!” Meenah chimes. Great , a game of ‘Hunt and Seek’. At least she’s okay.

He bends down to the tiny troll’s level. “Okay, lithen, I need you to get her for me. It’th important.”

They all nodded and scurried off. Sollux has no idea why she can’t just let them not be mind-controlled all the time. They seem to do what he tells them to do most of the time. He shrugs and approaches the doors of the hive. If Aradia was around she would say—

“It has potential.”

He whips around to see his matesprit thinking deeply while looking at the architecture. She has her chin in her hand and she’s doing the pout thing with her lip that indicates approval.

“I mean, I look at ruins for a living, and this is more than stable for us to live in.”

He doesn’t hesitate in throwing his arms around her neck, pressing her face to his chest.

“Mm muff fuf mifft me.”

“What?”

She frees her face and says, “You must have missed me.”

“Damn right, I did. I’m just glad you’re alive.”

* * *

 

Karkat and Kanaya have been walking for a while now. They came to some cliffs earlier, which Kanaya nearly fell off of because she wasn’t watching where she was going. Karkat had to jerk her away, almost making her lose the key to trollmanity. The act of kindness earned him a lecture on god-knows-what because he stopped listening. Something about not handling her and her precious cargo so roughly.

“So what happened?” he asks.

“Do you not remember?” she asks curiously.

“I seem to remember passing out when my ears imploded.” His body doesn’t react well to changes in pressure. “Must be a mutant thing or whatever the fuck.”

She frowns, still confused. “Well for starters, some of us were in separate cages in the brig, and when the ship broke apart, the cages did too. They were meant to be detachable from both the ship and each other. The bottom of the ship had given out and broke off, sending the cages down to almost certain death.” She stops to make the scarf she tied around her waist into a makeshift carrying case for the matriorb. “Fortunately for us in particular, we were not far from the ground when we landed. As a matter of fact, our cage landed in the trees.”

“So you dragged me out of the tree?”

“Yes.”

“And which one did you rescue first, me or that dumb egg thing?”

“Karkat, that is really rude. I honestly don’t know where you come up with these silly ideas.”

“That’s not a fucking answer.”

She stops walking and turns toward Karkat, and rolls her eyes. “You of course. I value the ones already living before the ones that may or may not survive the hatching process. So far, the matriorb has been fine, but I didn’t want to take the risk of it being damaged and lose both of you. I’d rather save you than a silly egg.”

Oh. He slaps his forehead hard. “My past self asks really stupid things sometimes.” He wants to bang his head against a tree. How could he say such a thing! Sometimes when a person frustrates him to no end, he just can’t help being an asshole. That is, everyone that isn’t Karkat frustrates Karkat.

“In any case, we were less than ten feet off the ground.”

Karkat smacks his forehead again. Even if he fell out of that cage head-first, he probably would have survived.

Kanaya continues to blaze their trail. “If we can’t find a cave soon, there won’t be much time to finish incubating this thing.”

“You’re worried about the matriorb when we need shelter ourselves? Kind of hypocritical if you ask me.” No, idiot, stop being stupid!

She doesn’t even turn around. “I’m fine for a while yet. Plus, we’re bound to find the others soon, so we could all work together to make a shelter. Why, are you tired already?”

“ _No._ ” He’s not! Really!

“Good, because I think I hear the laughter of tiny troll children.”

True to Kanaya’s senses, they come upon a clearing with a beat-up hive about four stories tall with way too many windows, with the troll kids chasing each other around in the grass. Aradia and Sollux are also there, playing along with them.

“Karkat!” one of them shouts. Uh oh.

“Karkitty!” Meulin used a cat pun on his name. Oh sweet jegus, no.

All of a sudden, all twelve of the trolls pounce on him, and he crumples immediately under the weight.

“Get off me!” he yells, squirming. He looks to Kanaya for help, but she just giggles behind her hand. “Help me, damn it!” He doesn’t appreciate this one bit. One. Little. Fucking. _Bit_.

“Everybody off, the grown-upth need to talk.” Sollux. Finally, someone who gives a shit. The children “aww” and go play somewhere else. Sollux looks down at Kanaya’s scarfbag and asks, “Is that it?”

“Yes it is,” she answers.

“Awethome. Aradia and I were eckthploring that huge-ath hive and found a bathe-ment.” He gestures behind him to the building with his thumb. “Perfect for a mother grub to lay eggth and shit.”

“Thank you, Sollux.” Since when did he even care about that shit? No matter, at least there will be a roof above their heads. The clouds spell rain.

* * *

 

Eridan was tired. He started getting tired as soon as the sun went down. He still couldn’t find Feferi anywhere. Maybe she was on land? But there was so much more ocean to search. He worried that she might have been injured in the crash after she slipped from his fingers. That worrying made him search even more desperately.

But he was also tired of himself. He had come to terms with who he was before: highblood, seadweller, Feferi’s companion, fearless wielder of a legendary weapon. That was before  he didn’t have the option of seeing different trolls every day. Twelve months on a ship and only seain’ the same dumbfin trolls every day gave him nothing short of cabin fever. It pushed him to be alone and reevaluate his life. In doing so, he realized he was a glubbin’ douchefin and he hated himself for it. On the ship, everyone was in the same boat, so to speak, which made them equal. In the past, he had always treated the lower castes how they were, but after being on the ship for so long he began to realize that their equal statuses didn’t allow him to treat them like dirt anymore.

So what if they’re all the same now that they’re on an alien planet?! He might be sick of himself, but that’s no reason to go and change who he is. It’s too late for that, anyway.

Something bumps his leg.

He squints his eyes and peers through the darkening waters at the large, light gray shape circling him. He rolls his eyes. Typical shark behavior. It looks like he’s going to have to establish superiority with this planet’s wildlife as whale. He clenches his fist and gives the oversized fish a strong punch to the snout and several short jabs to its eyes, forehead, and gills. He smirks when the shark starts to flail. With one hand he grabs the gills, and with the other he grips the pectoral fin. Grunting, he takes the shark up to the surface and launches it away from the general direction of the island.

“That’ll teach you to mess with Eridan Ampora, you uncultured carcharodon!” he yells into the air. He huffs and dives back into the water.

* * *

 

“Feferi…” Nepeta mutters, nudging the older troll with her paw—HAND. With her hand. She woke up by herself, but then she found Feferi in a lagoon while exploring, the water gently lapping at her feet. Nepeta had dragged her out of the water carefully. Now they’re sitting in a tree, Feferi’s clothes hanging to dry.

It’s quite cold here, Nepeta thought. She only brought a half-jacket, so she relinquished it and put it on the seadweller, arms and all. She doesn’t know much about seadwelling trolls, but from what she heard, they actually prefer the cold waters.

While she debated putting her back into the water, Feferi stirs.

“Er’dan?” she slurs, sitting up. She stumbles when she realizes she’s on a branch. Nepeta herself feels natural in the trees, so it’s not such a big deal to be up nearly forty feet up.

Nepeta frowns slightly and shakes her head. “Nope. Just little ol’ Nepeta Leijon,” she answers.

She widens her eyes and flushes. “Sorry Nepeta.” She looks around carefully and eyes her clothes hanging behind Nepeta’s head. “Why am I in my underclothes?”

“You were wet, and it’s really cold here.” Nepeta shivers and rubs her arms.

“Nepeta, I’m fine! I live in water, so I’m used to it. Here.” She takes off the jacket. “Take it back, I’m good.”

The cat troll takes it back readily. “Are you _shore_?”

Feferi laughs at the attempted pun. “I’m _paw_ sitive.”

Nepeta relaxes a little bit. She’s never been alone with Feferi before, so it’s bound to be interesting. She stands up easily and retrieves Feferi’s threads. “They’re almost dry. I tried blowing on them, but it didn’t help furry much.”

“I seappose it wouldn’t.” Feferi swallows uncomfortably. “Can we get down? I’m not too good with heights…”

“No need to fear, Nepeta is here! I’ll carry you down.”

Before Feferi could refuse, Nepeta takes her by the arm and hoists the highblood onto her back. She leaps from limb to limb playfully while Feferi clings for dear life.

Nepeta lands on her feet. “We have landed.”

“That was so exciting!” Feferi cried happily. “Do you travel like that all the time?”

“Yep! My lusus taught me!”

Feferi’s expression suddenly drops. Nepeta immediately feels guilty for mentioning her lusus. Pounce DeLeon has been dead for a long time, so she’s used to it. Feferi might never see hers again.

“Are you okay, Fefurry?” She puts a hand on her shoulder.

“I said I’m okay!” Feferi tries to force a smile, but it’s not very convincing. Nepeta just wants to hug her friend furever. “I lost contact with my lusus right after the asteroid belt, that’s all. I never even got to say goodbye.”

That was something Nepeta can relate to. “My hive was a cave, and one day, I came home to boulders blocking the way. Equius and I cleared them out and found Pounce DeLeon inside.” She sniffles involuntarily. “But that was when I was six. I’m used to her not being around anymore. Equius was there fur Nepeta instead!”

Feferi stays silent. Nepeta wondered what she’s thinking about.

“Anyway, Nepeta thinks she saw a _big_ hive befurr she found Feferi.” She showed exactly how big the hive was by spreading her arms out wide. “It’s getting dark too, so we need to get warm. Well, I do.”

“Let’s go, then. I heal fast, so I can walk by myself.” She gestured to Nepeta. “Lead the way, frond!”

* * *

 

Vriska wakes up to red skies through bleary eyes. Everywhere feels sore, like she swam around a planet. Why can’t she move? What was the last thing she remembered?

She remembers the ship breaking apart. Then she rolled her dice and got a one through eight run. That was cool. She smiles to herself at the thought. The dice are probably gone now. She sighs forlornly. She remembers aiming the ship as best as she could towards the island before the cages started dropping, but since it was so dark, she’s not exactly sure where they fell. You kind of drown if you’re trapped in a cage and it’s dropped in water. It wouldn’t have been an issue for the four seadwellers, but who knows if they even cared enough to do so.

Groaning, she sits up. She looks down and sees why her movement was limited. Eridan’s dumbass cape, sopping wet and heavy, had been draped over her like a blanket. She’s not sure whether to accept the sudden flutter in her viscera or to view it as a challenge. Disgusted, she yells and throws the thing in the sand.

“Wow, Wris,” a voice says from the waves. She looks on to see Eridan emerging from them. “Why don’t you jus’ burn it while you’re at it?”

“At least then I won’t have to see it ever again,” she replies. “Why did you even put it on me anyway? It’s wet, the weather’s cold, do you want me to die?!” She crosses her arms.

He mirrors her. “Oh, please! You can’t die ewen if you wanted to!” He walks over to his cape to pick it up and mutters, “Ungrateful bitch.”

Taken aback, Vriska stands up, ignoring the sudden pain in her chest. “Why I oughta…!” She stops herself from yanking the cape away from him and strangling him with it. As he continues walking, unaware of her actions, she brings her fist down and reevaluates her motives. She sneers. “Well, well, well, Eridan. It looks like you have a bone bulge after all.”

He whips around suddenly. “I—! Fuck!” He wrinkles his nose. “Don’t flatter yourself!” At that, he storms off into the trees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter's title brought to you by: Snow Patrol


	12. Heartbreak Hive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was surprisingly very easy to write.

Much to Eridan’s apparent surprise, they find Feferi having a tea party with Nepeta outside of a rather large and trashy-looking hive. Damn near two days he’d been searching for her, and here she was the entire time! Vriska can’t help but laugh at this turn of events.

“What’re you laughin’ for?” he grumbles.

Before she could give him an answer, he storms off again. “It must be exhausting, being you,” she chuckles to herself.

Speaking of exhaustion, Vriska’s eye catches the troll children running around aimlessly, obviously searching for something. She shakes her head and closes her eyes, concentrating on her sevenfold. She doesn’t have a plan yet, but she calls the group together with her mind anyway.

Nothing.

She frowns, concentrating harder.

Still nothing. Not even an echo.

Lifting her fingers to her temples, she tries again, but to no avail. She must have hit her head on something when they crashed. If she doesn’t have her sevenfold, then she’s nothing, or so she believes. Without her powers, she’s just another volatile troll in this stupid world.

Angry, she kicks the nearest tree, muttering curses and limping afterward.

“Tried that already, didn’t work,” a strained voice says from above.

She looks up to see Karkat covered in dirt and who-knows-what-else clinging to a thick branch. “What the hell are you doing up there?”

“What the hell are _you_ doing revealing my hiding place?”

“You’re hiding, huh?” She raises an eyebrow and smirks. “From what, I wonder?”

“Your crazy child crew, that’s who! While you were gone, the little shitstains started attacking me for no reason!”

“Attacking? No, no,” she says, wagging her finger. “That’s just their way of showing affection.”

“As I stated previously, ‘ _attacking_ ’,” he reiterates. “Can you just get them back under control or something? I think I like them better that way.”

“Hmm,” Vriska says with a hand on her chin, pretending to think. She could tell him the truth. Or she could stall for time until she gets her sevenfold back and reveal his hiding place. An uncharacteristic option would be to just walk away and let him suffer in his hiding space alone. But something deep down wants her to do the right thing.

Nah. She calmly walks towards the gigantic wooden structure. About halfway there, she takes a deep breath.

“Karkat ahoy! Tree branch, captain’s stern!” Karkat spotted, in the tree, behind the captain.

Excited voices fill the air, happy that the captain has helped them for once. Eleven of them run past her, but a certain tealblood slows to a stop in front of her.

“What are you looking at?” Vriska says, looking down her nose.

“We’re free, aren’t we?” Latula concludes.

“Get lost, Pyrope.” Vriska herself stalks off, now in need of a moirail. If she survived, that is. Everyone else seemed to, so why not Kanaya? She hastens her step to a run.

* * *

 

Kanaya doesn’t much like to build things, she has discovered, but to decorate. She decided to leave all the building to Sollux and Aradia and the crew, but she’s not counting on the crew participating until Vriska arrives, if she arrives at all. If Vriska didn’t survive the crash, then Kanaya would think to die herself. This must have been how Nepeta felt when she saw her moirail murdered by trolls right in front of her, but Nepeta’s situation was much worse, so can’t possibly compare the two. What Vriska did was stupid. Sacrificing herself to save the rest! How could she? Those thoughts aren’t good to have, Kanaya tells herself. She finally allows herself to think about the chances of Vriska surviving and she comes up with some very low scores indeed. If Vriska did survive, the first thing Kanaya would do is run up to her and—

“So, where’re the captain’s quarters in this shithive?”

Kanaya turns to see her moirail about ten feet away. She runs up to her.

“Aw, I’m glad to see you—Kanaya, what—!”

Just as planned, she ran up to Vriska and punched her in the face, sending her stumbling back a few steps and ultimately sending her to her backside.

“Ow! Kanaya!” She rubs her cheek tenderly. “I think you broke a toof!”

“It’ll grow back,” Kanaya says through gritted teeth and hunched shoulders. But what is she so angry about? Vriska looks up with a confused expression. She just did what she had to do to save the crew.

“Are you going to help me up or what?” She even lost her ship in the process. Her pride and joy. _On its maiden voyage_.

“I’m sorry.” Kanaya offers her hand and pulls her into a hug. “I’m sorry, I just thought I lost you.”

“Hey, hey, I’ve got all the luck, remember?” Vriska hates hugs, but paps Kanaya in return anyway. “Okay, okay, let go now. It’s established that I’m back.” They separate. “I’m also serious, where are my quarters?”

“Right.” Kanaya clears her throat. “We’ve been working on constructing a blueprint of this place all day, and found that there are currently only five blocks that are habitable at the moment.”

Vriska steps away to inspect the hive. “Habitable?”

“No holes in the floors, no broken windows, and no wildlife, living or dead.” Nepeta was excited to do that part herself. Who knows what she did with the carcasses?

“Which one is the biggest?”

“So far, only the basement. It’s very damp and dirty, so we’ve put the matriorb down there to finish incubating itself.”

“Gross. What about the other four?”

She lists off what she can remember about the choices so far. “Sollux and Aradia have claimed one of them, since they were the first adults here. Karkat claimed one for himself, which I don’t blame him for. Nepeta has happily taken the cellar next to the basement, which is nowhere near habitable and somehow dry as bones. Feferi is choosing one at the moment…”

“This one!” An airy voice chimes.

“… Now chosen one. That leaves one for you, Eridan, Gamzee, and myself.” Kanaya is open to sharing a room with anyone who was willing. Or until another one of them is fixed, sleep with the matriorb until the new mother grub hatches.

“Good,” Vriska says. “I had better make a conquest then.” She pauses. “I’m glad you’re alive too, Kanaya.” She scuttles away, leaving Kanaya behind.

“Now, what to do about the slime…” she mutters.

“I think I can help, sis,” someone drawls from behind.

Startled, she jumps away and revs her chainsaw. Oh, it’s just Gamzee. She sighs with relief.

“Gets me every time,” he slurs, staring at the weapon. “Motherfuckin’ miracles.”

“Did you say you can help with the slime?” She reverts it back to lipstick and puts it in her pocket.

“Yep.” He hands her a twig covered in purple ooze. It must be his saliva. “See that?”

“Do you mean your saliva?” she asks.

“No, no, no! What’s _under_ the saliva?” He points to the tip. Again, to the purple ooze. He sighs exasperatedly. “The miracle slime from the heavens!”

She peers closer. There is a semi-clear sap coming from it. She knows that on Alternia, most tree saps are toxic to lusii. The sap on this planet’s trees must be harmless. She raises her eyebrows at him in disbelief.

“I’ve been sleeping all day in that tree there and I’ve never been better,” he says with a goofy grin. He is nowhere near as crazy as he was back on Alternia when they first met, and she assumed he had some slime the day before. But now that he’s been deprived for twelve months, he seems even loopier than ever.

“I believe the flaw in your plan is that we can’t eat the slime, we have to sleep in it.” She looks past him to the forest. “We may have an abundance of trees, but we may not have enough to go around. Unless Vriska can replicate her recycling technology, I don’t think we can use the tree sap here.”

“Oh,” he says sadly.

“It was a good try,” Kanaya tries to console him as he slumps back into the trees.

* * *

 

Over the next few days, the entire motley crew of adults and grubs busily clear the hive of everything broken: furniture, walls, glass, doors, various flooring, and recycle as much of it as possible. What may have been a broken door before, was now a part of a wall or the floor. Nepeta had discovered many ancient relics in her dry cellar, and all of them looked valuable enough to sell, according to Vriska. Karkat commented that the images on the records of the hornless natives were all ugly. They were consistent enough for Kanaya to conclude that they looked similar enough to trolls that they could blend in without much difficulty.

The only problem was their horns. No one wanted to go so far as to break them off. However, Vriska _insisted_ on purchasing a boat, so Feferi volunteered herself and Karkat, the ones with the smallest horns, to travel to civilization. Eridan then volunteered.

“I just don’t understand why this particular alien had so many different records,” Karkat comments when they get to a busy harbor. It was a pain getting them all into a waterproof pouch big enough to hold a bunch of them, and it’ll be just as painful getting them out again.

“An’ I just don’t understand why I couldn’t hawe taken my cape with me,” Eridan responds.

“It’s because no one wears capes anymore, doofus. Not even on Alternia.”

“This is like old times, right guys?” Feferi sighs. “Just the three of us on the road again.”

Karkat rolls his eyes. “I’m getting chills.” He locates the nearest native and approaches. “Hey asshole, where can I sell this?” he asks, holding up a random record between their faces.

The native squints his eyes, possibly at the horns. “Depends on the record you’re—WHAT IS THAT?!”

“I don’t know, Elvis?” Karkat is undeterred by the male’s reaction. The letters don’t look anything like Alternian, but the guy on the cover looks exactly like Troll Elvis Presley. One of them, anyway. There were so many copycats, Karkat barely kept up with which one did which songs.

“Is that his autograph?!”

“I guess?” Karkat turns to shrug at the rest of his party, who also shrug.

“ _I’ll_ buy it from you!”

“Seriously?”

“I’ll give you five hundred for it.”

“Yeah, sure. Just make it cash.” However much _that_ was. Karkat just wanted it off his hands.

“Deal!” the guy says, taking Karkat’s hand and shaking it roughly. He quickly forks over five bills with “100” in the corners and takes off with the record.

“Holy shit,” was all Karkat could say to that.

“I think the natives are fun!” Feferi exclaims.

“Yeah, fun until they rob you blind,” Eridan says.

“He didn’t answer our question!” Karkat barks to the both of them. He orders them to not be useless and go ask for directions to a pawn shop or antique store. He then saunters towards the next nearest native. “Don’t freak out, I just want a pawn shop!”

The dark-skinned female wearing gold looks him up and down disapprovingly . “You didn’t say the magic word. And aren’t you a little young to be out so late at night?”

“No. Answer my question.”

She is adamant. “No.”

Karkat groans loudly. “Fine! Where’s a fucking pawn shop?”

Another female comes up to him, this one in black leather and pasty as this planet’s full moon in the sky. “Excuse you! Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?”

“I have no goddamn clue what a mother is.”

“Kid, how old are you? Your parents must be worried sick,” the dark-skinned one says.

“I’m nine, what of it?!”

Both females cross their arms. “I think he’s being fresh with us, don’t you think, Sonoma?” the pasty one says.

“I think he is too, Chianti,” the dark one says.

“I think we need to teach him a lesson.” The pasty one punches her palm.

“You do it this time, I’m done beatin’ up dumb Johns this week.”

“Okay fine, I’ll leave! Fuck!” Karkat yells. “Just wanted a damn pawn trading post or something!” These people are some of the rudest he’s ever met! It’s no use being nice to them.

He meets up with Feferi and Eridan again, who have apparently found a store willing to buy this shit.

“Hey Kar, hawe you noticed that the people here speak Alternian?” Eridan asks.

“I don’t know, maybe it’s the universal language of ‘Go Fuck Yourself’! Just get us there. The sooner we get rid of this shit, the sooner we can leave.”

“You’re welcome, Karkat,” Feferi says sing-songs.

* * *

 

Back on the island, Vriska is hard at work designing a boat. It’s smaller this time, one-man steering and no sails required, and extremely fast. It will be made of the most sophisticated of materials available on this planet. She holds up the finished product and looks at it at arms-length. She frowns for the fiftieth time that night and crumples it immediately. Waste of good blue paper. She lets out a long sigh and looks out her glassless window. She chose this one because it has the best view of the sunrise, even though it is nowhere near habitable yet. She had always wanted to see what one would look like, but was afraid that it would blind her, like she blinded Terezi with it. The sun on this planet seems boatloads less painful to be under.

A soft knock that could only mean Kanaya sounds behind her. “Come in,” Vriska replies.

“They’re back,” Kanaya reports. “They reeled in about ten thousand with the twenty-five records we sent them with.”

“Good, thank you. Go to bed, Kanaya, you look awful.”

“I should say the same to you.”

Vriska shoots her a half-hearted glare. She’s too tired to waste energy on being angry. “Sounds like a good idea.”

* * *

 

“Aradia, you’ve been working all night, let’th go to sthleep!” Sollux shouts to the fourth floor.

“I’m almost done with this patchup!” she calls in return. He hears more hammering, then a whoop for joy. “The trapdoor is now done!”

Sollux facepalms. “We don’t need a trapdoor on the roof!”

“Yes we do!” A slam is heard from above. Sollux narrows his eyes, expecting her to pop her head over the side of the roof. Instead, she emerges from a window. “See? I don’t need a ladder now!”

“There aren’t any habitable blockth up there, though! Juth get on the ladder! Pleathe!”

“Okay!” She smiles at him innocently. He smiles back sheepishly. She disappears behind the window.

“Hey! Hey thupid!” a whiny voice calls from the roof. Sollux looks up. _Mituna_. “Ahahahaha, you looked!” What the hell is he doing up there?

“Dumbath, get down, you’ll hurt yourthelf!” Sollux scolds. He never listens, so it’s better to let him do what he wants until—shit, he’s going to fall!

“Oh no, fuck!” A tile slips out from under him and nearly hits Sollux on the ground. He slides to the edge of the roof and manages to grip the rain gutter with his hands. “I’m okay!” He climbs back up and crawls over to the ladder, climbing down shakily.

“You’re going to die thomeday, and I don’t want to be there to thee it tho don’t ever do that again.” He’s sick and tired of looking after his descendant most days, because he just gets into trouble if he isn’t looked after. Why wasn’t Vriska using her mind control on _him_ at least?

“Is Mituna okay?” Aradia asks, also coming down the ladder.

“More than okay,” Sollux responds. At that point, Mituna had run off to do something else.

“Good.” She climbs down the ladder silently. Two silently. Enough to make Sollux suspicious, if nothing else. If there’s one person he trusts in this fucking place, it’s be Aradia. But right now it’s hard to do even that.

Just before Aradia reaches the second floor, he hears a soft laugh from the window closest to him. Damara is leaning out of it, counting down in her made-up language. The only reason he understands it is because Aradia introduced it to them both at the same time. She said it was to make Damara more “cultural”, but all it did was make her a conniving brat because without Vriska’s mind-control, she was out of control. He didn’t know how, but she was. But he could say that about all young grubs when they become trolls.

When Damara gets down to “Ichi”, Aradia yelps. She had slipped on a rung.

Fortunately, Sollux is there to catch her and they both collapse in a heap. Through her apologizing, he strokes behind her head and looks around for Damara, but she is nowhere to be found.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter's title brought to you by: Elvis Presley


	13. All: Alone Together

Preparations for each hive were going well, both Kanaya and Vriska report to everyone a week later. Every adult troll had their own room if they wanted, and the kitchen is officially open for business. Kanaya had chosen the basement with the matriorb, setting up a hammock under the stairs. The children were all in one room at the moment, but that might change soon. Vriska assigned herself to be the keeper of the loot and announces that they finally raised enough human money to purchase a boat.

“Nobody cares about that except you!” Karkat remarks over the tight crowd in the living space just inside the entryway. It’s vast enough to hold all twenty-one of them, and the perfect meeting area. The children erupt in a fit of giggles, but the laughter dies when Vriska glares at them.

“Which brings me to my next point!” she continues. “From this moment onward, and I have spoken to both of them about this, I hereby _officially_ transfer my leadership over to two adult trolls that aren’t me. I am demoting myself to second-in-command. But believe me, I am more pained about this than you are.” She blinks slowly to shift her gaze to Karkat. “And from now on, you won’t be reporting to me about your problems, but to your co-leaders: Karkat Vantas and Kanaya Maryam.”

“Oh, it’s official now?” he says with an annoyed tone and arms perpetually crossed. “They pretty much bother me about everything already. You didn’t need a bark-and-tiny-hoofbeast show to tell everyone.”

She ignores his comment and moves on. “Now before we move on, since the floor is still mine, _and_ I have decided that I am the keeper of the loot, I should be the first to pollute the troll image by performing a blasphemous act only—”

“Get to the point!” Karkat again.

“—only known as the removal of my horns.” It took a lot of thinking, but since Vriska _is_ the most adaptable out of everyone here, she knows that it was only a matter of time. She moves on as the gasps and concerned chatter dies down. “It was only a matter of time, really, and everyone who leaves the island from now on has to have theirs removed as well. Save Karkat and Nepeta and Sollux, respectively. They could just wear a hat.”

“Awesome.”

“I don’t really want to leave anyway,” Nepeta remarks quietly. “I have memories here now…” Vriska notes the bewildered stare that Karkat is giving the green-eyed girl.

Vriska clears her throat, gaining attention again. “And also, whoever wants to watch has my permission. I have nothing to lose and nothing to hide, plus it’ll be a good learrrrrrrrning experience.” The only thing she does have to hide is the fact that she hasn’t gotten her powers back yet. Sollux has been complaining about controlling his and Aradia’s descendants every chance he gets, but he’ll just have to deal with them himself. “Come, Kanaya. To the bathroom!” She gestures to the circular stairs to the second floor. “Oh, and meeting adjourned. Go wreak havoc or something.”

Kanaya follows her to the bathroom, and so do about six others, including Aradia, Gamzee, Feferi, Latula, Aranea, and Rufioh. Vriska admits only to herself that she’s nervous about the whole thing to begin with. But it’ll all be over soon and she’ll just have to deal with it.

She sheds her coat and removes her boots and sits on the edge of the plastic tub. Kanaya stands to her right and turns on the water, which is cold, which is fine with Vriska. She nods to her moirail, who has positioned herself. One of her legs are propped on the edge, and she is bending over Vriska, one hand on her head, one on her horn.

“Just know that I’ve never done this before and it might be painful,” she repeats.

“Just do it.” Vriska closes her eyes.

“On three,” Kanaya says in a commanding tone. “One.”

_SNAP!_ Vriska didn’t expect to cry out. The younger trolls gasp when she did. One horn clatters into the tub.

“Two.”

_CRACK!_ Then the second horn.

“Fuuuuuuuuck!” Vriska cries out again. She finally opens her eyes and sees some worried younger children. She gives them her signature smug smirk and fights every temptation to reach up and feel the damage. “See? I’m fine.” She looks to Rufioh, who is about ready to upchuck their fish breakfast.

“I need to file them down next,” Kanaya informs. “I’m not very good at this yet.”

“I want to see.” She stands up.

“Not yet you’re not. You’re still bleeding,” Kanaya says, shoving her back down. “We just cleaned up.”

Vriska glares at her. Really? She’s in an unholy amount of pain at her horns being broken off, and Kanaya’s concerned about keeping the bathroom clean?! They’re practically bones, how does she think—

“Besides, it’ll scare everyone else if we let you trail blood everywhere.” Damn, why is she so right all the time? “I’m next anyway, so I hope you were paying attention.”

Vriska scoffs. “Well, I wasn’t, but I know you can do it to yourself. You’re strong. You can handle it. Just go rainbow drinker if you get scared.”

Kanaya pales. “I don’t—”

“Yes you can. Now bandage me up, I’m ‘bout to pass out.” No sooner after she said that, her vision clouded and she fell forward onto the vinyl floor.

* * *

 

“Nepeta, where the fuck are we going?” Karkat asks.

Nepeta felt the need to ask Karkat to accompany her after the meeting ended. She saw him staring at her after she confessed she had new memories here. They were there for each other when they suffered the most traumatic experiences of their lives, so why not help him move on, too?

“As you may or may not have heard, I am your official leader now, so I command you tell me where we’re going.” They were nearing the tree line, so his voice was very concerned indeed.

“I’m helping you move on,” she finally says. She stops at the border and turns to him. “This will only work if you’re ready.”

“I don’t know what that even means.” Lie. His face flickered with remorse as soon as she said “move on” and she didn’t believe for a second that he didn’t know what she was talking about.

“Trust me.” She turns to follow her game trail. After taking a few steps, she turns to see that he had already left. “Karkitty…” she sighs. She continues on her way down the trail, down the hill. She won’t pressure him. He’ll come when he’s ready.

* * *

 

Months pass. The weather was now almost unbearably hot, and Kanaya was starting to worry if the matriorb was ever going to hatch at all.

“Anything?” Vriska asks, opening the basement door. Light spills in from the kitchen, and also the smells of fish frying. Eridan must be cooking, because the last time Feferi was let into the kitchen, she nearly set the hive on fire.

“Nothing yet,” she answers honestly. “There was a wiggle yesterday, but nothing since.” She remains in her crouching position above the egg in its leafy nest and gently picks off a millipede that had crawled on it, and tosses it aside. “How about you? Any progress on getting your powers back?” Vriska finally told her in confidence after she had bandaged her broken horns that first day and everyone left. She must had been holding it back for weeks before that. It had certainly explained the increasing complaints about unruly descendants.

“Unfortunately not.” She pauses for a long time. “But I might have a lead.”

Interesting. Kanaya looks away from the egg. “Oh?”

“It might work on the humans.”

“That’s quite a theory. How did you figure it out?”

“When I was buying the boat a few months ago. Originally, I found the price to be unreasonable for its condition. It had no awning, which was fine with me, but it was about two-thousand more than what it was worth, not to mention how much we had. I told him that if he didn’t lower the price by three-thousand, then I would take my business elsewhere. He laughed, so I simply imagined him punching himself in the face.”

Kanaya laughed lightly. “Did he do it?”

“No, but when he said something about how cheap I was, I got so mad that I turned around and told the prick to jump off the dock.”

“Did he do _that_?”

Vriska smiles evilly. “You’d better believe it. He came back up, sputtering that I could just take the damn thing, and then muttered something about spiders as he swam away pitifully. I dropped the money in the boat and left then and there.”

“That’s more than a lead, Vriska.”

“I know right? I’m thinking of getting back into gambling. Humans are so easy to manipulate.”

Kanaya widens her eyes, mortified. “Vriska!” Had she forgotten all of those nights that they spent arguing about the well-being of others in their younger days? Had she forgotten that she nearly lost Tavros to a gang of highbloods when she screwed over the wrong people when they were only seven sweeps old? Had she forgotten all those nights they spent starving because she had spent the last of their savings on a game of roulette?

“It’s only an idea!”

“Let’s keep it that way,” Kanaya glowers. “I don’t want to fight with you today.”

“Alright, fine. I just wanted to let you know it was on the table. We’re going to run out of antiques eventually, and until one of us besides me gets over the fear of horn removal and gets a respectable job, it’s the only option we have. Think about it.” Vriska turns back to the door and climbs the stairs. Kanaya watches as she closes the door, leaving her in the dark again.

Kanaya sighs, turning back to the matriorb. Another millipede had crawled on it, so she removes that one, too. She’s right, though. So far, Vriska was the only one willing to remove her horns, Karkat refused to leave his block except on special meetings, and Nepeta was the only hunter besides the seadwellers, they have no other source of income besides the relics, which the kids all began to hoard for themselves because they had gotten attached. Kanaya just didn’t want to be at such a low point in her life again.

Then, a crack. Kanaya snaps back into reality. The matriorb was shaking.

She lets out a short gasp and scoots closer on her hands and knees. A small spider-web shaped crack had formed on the very top. She blinks and squints, to make sure it wasn’t her imagination. Then, the crack gets bigger and a small talon breaks through. She smiles and laughs with relief.

“Yes! Come, little grub!” She remembers that she needs to prepare absorbency cloths and dashes to the top of the stairs excitedly. She flings the door open and shouts, “Towels! Quickly!”

Eridan nearly throws the spatula into the air and proceeds to yell at her for interrupting his work. Aradia had heard her and came running with some mostly-clean blankets.

“Thank you Aradia. Follow me. I also need some warm water to soak them in.”

“Now that I can do,” Eridan mutters, bending down to a lower cabinet to retrieve a pot. Kanaya can’t afford to spend time to be surprised at his help so she just turns back to her new responsibility.

She’s going to be a mother.

* * *

 

Karkat can’t sleep. He never does, usually. And now he _really_ can’t because there’s a commotion downstairs. He surprisingly doesn’t give a shit about it, and proceeds to leave the mansion-hive, avoiding the kitchen and basement altogether.

He thinks about what Nepeta said all those months ago. The long bouts of not being able to sleep are beginning to take its toll on him, and he knows exactly why. The reason Nepeta’s words were still with him. The reason he doesn’t have to really live anymore.

How long has it been since she was murdered? He recounts the days nearly every day. It’s been fifteen months, a week, and six days. It’s been nearly a perigee now and it’s still fresh in his mind like it happened yesterday. The discovery devastated him. Made him angrier. He hated everyone for it, especially himself. If it weren’t for his bleeding bloodpusher for Feferi’s cause, then she’d still be alive.

Fuck, he can’t even say her name anymore.

He finds himself walking down Nepeta’s trail, the sun lowering on the horizon. What time is it, anyway?

“The cat-troll spies her prey and asks if he has finally decided to take her up on her offur.”

“Jegus!” Karkat exclaims, extremely startled. Was that a cat pun? And did she seriously refer to herself as “the cat-troll”? He looks around and sees no one.

“She leaps down from the trees above and tries not to startle him more.” The branches above him shake and drop some long green needles. He can see that she’s moving very fast, and seems to have mastered the trees around here well. At least _someone’s_ adjusting well. She lands in front of him about ten feet away.

“I’m not taking you up on your offer, I just want to see what it is,” he corrects her. She seems dejected, but gestures to follow her anyway.

“The first stage is denial,” she states. “Then anger. Then bargaining. Then depression. Then acceptance.” She pauses to clear some brush that had fallen on the path. “And Nepeta noticed that you have already gone through the first three and have been on the fourth fur quite some time.”

“I’m not depressed!” he yells. And what the shit-scraping _fuck_ is she talking about?

“Sure.”

They continue to walk in silence. They pass a small pond, then go along a creek for a while. She expertly navigates them down a hill, and at the bottom, he sees three large rocks, two with Alternian scribbled on them in what looks like animal blood.

“We’re here.” She stops in front of one of them and sits on her ankles. He peers over her shoulder to read it. “It’s a hunter’s tradition, but it works for friends, too.”

“Equius Zahhak  
“Age: 10 sweeps  
“Occupation: Butler  
“Blood Caste: Indigo  
“Legacy: Nepeta’s one and only Meowrail”

Is this a memorial plot? He looks to the other one with Alternian scribbled on it, and notices that it doesn’t match the handwriting on the other stone.

“Tavros Nitram  
“Age: 8 sweeps  
“Occupation: Revolutionary  
“Blood Caste: Brown  
“Legacy: ~~Lousy Godda Good-For-Nothi~~ Beloved Martyr”

So Vriska has been here. Karkat scoffs shortly. A leader never shows their weaknesses, he guesses.

“Karkat,” Nepeta says. He turns towards her. She’s offering a container of animal blood. “It’s time to move on. We’re here now, and we all need you.”

“I can’t.”

“You have to.”

“No!”

“Yes!”

“Fuck you!”

“Anytime, fucker! Eep!” She flushes a deep olive and shakes her head violently. He’s never heard her curse before. He swallows uncomfortably and blushes a bit himself.

“I’m sorry, I just can’t, Nepeta. I can’t let her go just yet.”

She sighs and puts the bowl down. Some of it had spilled on her arm in the argument. “Okay. I’ll leave this here, then.”

And at that, she left.

An hour passes before Karkat drops to his knees and stares at the blank rock in front of him. He slowly takes the bowl and carefully dips his index finger in.

“Disgusting,” he mumbles. At least there are no clots in it. When he finishes, he takes the nearly-empty container with him. The sun had nearly set, and it’ll take a while for him to get back home.

“Terezi Pyrope  
“Age: 9 sweeps  
“Occupation: Imperial Legislacerator  
“Blood Caste: Teal  
“Legacy: Innocent”

* * *

 

Finally, it has happened. The mother grub was born, and it’ll only be a matter of weeks before she can start repopulating the troll populous on this distant planet.

Feferi Peixes knew that the time had come. She couldn’t count on Meenah to do it, because she wasn’t of age yet. She was the highest of highbloods, so naturally she felt that her duty was to rule over all the other trolls. Her nature went against her nurture, her entire being conflicting every day.

On one hand, she could just let it be the way it is now, Karkat and Kanaya being in charge of the younger ones and co-leading everyone else.

On the other, Feferi could take over. She certainly had the skill set.

For every day that she resisted this temptation, she fought it back with the ideals of democracy. She seemed to win most days. Others, though…

She nearly killed one of the younger grubs for it. Kankri, to be exact. Like herself, he had found a book about a revolutionary leader in the crypts below. There were only pictures to go on, but he established that he was exactly like Karkat’s ancestor and went straight to her to talk about it. When he babbled on and on about how that revolutionary leader never offended anyone in their entire lifetime and became martyr, he immediately connected it to himself. Like he had written the Signless’s journal himself!

She got angry.

So angry.

She didn’t want to, but she had to do it.

She had to leave. And soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter's title brought to you by: Fall Out Boy


	14. There's Us, And Them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two weeks ago I thought, "Wow, it's been like, nine days." But then I looked and saw that it had been three weeks and then I was all, "WHAT."

“Karkat, I was thinking,” Kanaya says one evening. The night was oddly cool, and he was thinking that the growing trolls downstairs should listen to someone besides human Elvis Presley once in a while. Just thinking about all that crazy dancing is making him exhausted. He sat down across from her in the living block in front of the empty fireplace, and she had been working on sewing yet another one of Rufioh’s shirts.

“What?” he replies.

“I’m thinking of working on the mainland.”

He frowns and squints his eyes. “Why? Vriska’s gambling shtick seems to be working well for us.”

She puts down her work and picks up a small pad of paper. “Well, we’ve had some requests from various residents for things that are a bit on the expensive side. I don’t understand why humans drive up these items so high, because it seems to me that they are essentials for living.”

“Like?”

Carefully, she answers, “Well, electronics, for instance…”

Karkat scoffs. “Sollux, right? I figured as much.”

“Also, some of the younger ones have asked for some food that isn’t fish and fowl.”

“What makes them think that this planet even has anything else?”

Without putting the paper down, she meets his eyes. “Didn’t you say that the neighborhood you visited four months ago had bakeries and other various markets?” He chooses to respond by glowering. “Besides, the mother grub downstairs now needs a specific diet that does not include the current food we have here on the island.”

Karkat gulps. “What does that mean?”

“When I fed my previous lusus her adult food, it mainly consisted of a copious amount of greenery.”

“Why can’t she just eat the grass?”

“She doesn’t like the grass here.”

“Make her eat it, then!”

“She is not a grub, Karkat! You can’t just feed it things it does not like! Don’t you even remember buying groceries for your own lusus?”

He leans back to cross his arms. “I mainly just stayed in.” His lusus was barely around anyway, and Karkat always assumed that he hunted or shopped or whatever for himself.

“In any case, I need to start making regular ventures off of the island.”

Was she stubborn. “What about your horns? Remember what happened to Vriska? She fucking passed out and met the ground with her face!”

“Karkat, please sit down. I know what I’m getting into. I broke them off, remember?”

“I won’t sit down! I’m not going to let Vriska do this to you!”

“That’s why I’m doing it myself.”

“You’re insane!”

“You yell too much.”

“Look, the important thing is that I don’t think it’s worth losing horns over.”

“You can come with me if you want.”

“Maybe I will!”

“Good. I need someone to know how to do this with the younger trolls when they come of age.”

Why does he even bother?

* * *

Feferi had been standing outside Eridan’s door for over an hour. She debated giving it a knock, but…

“Who am I kidding?” she mutters. “He’ll never agree to it, even if he does—”

“FF, what are you doing here?” Feferi jumps at Sollux’s voice. “Your block ith down the hall.”

“I’m just going to ask him something, that’s all!” she answers with too much pep. Adding a giggle didn’t make it sound any more convincing.

“You’ve been thtanding here for ten minuth.”

“It’s a very big question.”

“Well, I know he goeth to bed early, tho do it quickly. Truth me on thith.”

“Oh, I know! I _am_ his moirail after all,” she laughs. Her laughter fades, however, at the shuffling inside.

“Well, I have to go, today ith a thpecial day for me and Aradia.” He smiles and skitters away as Eridan opens his door.

“Fef!” he exclaims. He must have heard her and Sollux talking. “What’re you doing here?”

“I wanted to ask you something. Privately.”

He blinks a few times before responding. “Okay. Do you want to come in?” he offers. He visibly gulps, gills fluttering.

“Okay.” She skirts around him daintily. She picks out his simple quilt on the ground and sits on it, bringing her knees up to her chin and hugging them. She can’t help but spill everything out as soon as he sits down next to her. “I’m not sure when it started, but I’m starting to let my nature get to me. I almost killed Kankri because of it! I mean, he didn’t know it, but it still almost happened! I just don’t think I can handle this anymore!”

“Whoa, whoa! Slow down! Can’t handle what anymore?”

“This! All of this.” She gestures to the room around them. “I don’t know.” She rests her arms at her sides, staring at the swollen wood floor.

“Oh.”

What?! “ ‘Oh?’ Is that all you’re going to say about this?” She is dumbfloundered. “After all the campaigning we did, my imperial blood still takes over, and all you have to say is ‘oh’?!”

“Come on, Fef!”

“I can’t believe you!” She wants to hit him!

“Hear me out for a second!” He snatches her wrists from the air and holds them down. She escapes easily, but keeps still anyway. “Listen, I nehwer agreed with the whole idea of campaignin’, so I know what you’re goin’ through.” Before she can speak up again, he shooshes her. “Just keep quiet about it for now. We’ll think a somethin’.”

Feferi sighs. “I really want to come up with something now, before I kill anyone.” She smiles. Normally, Eridan is the moldable type, where if he hears the right words from the right person, you can get him to do just about anything. Loyal, too. “No!” What was she thinking? She can’t do that to him!

“What?” he gasps, highly concerned.

She meets his eyes forlornly. “I’m sorry. I need help.”

“I ha’ plenty a patience.” Taking her face in his hands, he leans in close, and she lets him. “But just for you.”

She lowers her gaze to his chin. “Thank you.”

* * *

“Fish-face, what are you doin’?” the growing fish-troll asks another growing, yet suspicious fish-troll who was trout and about so late at night. Could it be he is searching for some place to use that thing? Gross.

“M-Meenah!” Cronus nearly threw the bucket into the air. It’s like he’s on some special mission or somefin.

She smiles wickedly and crosses her arms. “What’s the bucket for?”

“I—what bucket?”

“The one in your hand, nookwipe! You think I’m blind?”

“It’s for carrying stuff!”

“Bull shark shit.”

“Stuff! Like…” He winks. “You know.”

She frowns. “You’re dumb.”

“Would you say you’re struck dumb in love?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes! I’m positive! Now tell me what the bucket is for, or I’m telling Karkat!”

His entire demeanor changes. “Shit! You don’t need to tell him! He’ll rip my fins off!” His eyes plead, but she ignores them.

She turns. “Karkat!” she shouts.

“Stop!”

“Karkat!” She takes off, making her footsteps as loud as possible.

He runs after her.

“Karkat! Cronus has a bu—” Before she could finish, a door opens out and blocks her way. She crashes into it, making the door nearly creak off its hinges.

“What in the flyin’ fish corpses is goin’ on?!” Eridan yells.

“Eridan, Cronus has a bucket! I’m telling Karkat!” Meenah smirks behind her.

“Please tell her not to!” Cronus’ pleas aren’t very creative, she thought.

“What’s going on?” Feferi asks from inside. It was muffled, so she must have been _really_ far inside. She resists all urges to waggle her eyebrows. That is, if she didn’t think it was so gross. They’re practically her direct ancestors! Ugh.

“Whatehwer it is, it’s ower now!” He pushes past Meenah and snatches the bucket from Cronus. “Confiscated!”

“Noooo!” both younger trolls whine. Now she can’t tell Karkat about Cronus’ hobbies.

“Who the hell is making all this noise in the middle of the fucking night?!” Karkat yells from down the hall. He storms towards the seadwellers with a proverbial ax to grind.

Meenah starts. “Cronus had a—”

Eridan snatches her load gaper. He must have tossed the bucket inside. Troutor. “Nightmare. He woke up Meenah and she took him here.” She struggled against the older troll to no avail. If she could only bite his hand, she could tell him the truth!

Karkat finally arrives and glares at the three of them. “Was it really worth all the yelling?”

“I’m sorry,” Cronus apologizes.

Karkat focuses on Eridan. “Control your descendants, _please_. I don’t sleep enough as it is, and I sure don’t need immature, grub-faced assholes keeping me awake.” He turns on his heel and returns the way he came.

Eridan loosens his grip and she squirms away. “Creeps. I hate you both!” It’s her turn to storm away.

She’s getting away from here as soon as she can. Maybe she’ll ask Kanaya how to do the horn thing and leave. Like shell she’s going alone, though. Maybe she’ll take everyone just to spite the adults. She’s so sick of everyone bossing her around all the time. Pouting, she goes straight to the block she shares with the other female trolls her age. Maybe Latula will be in on this.

“Latula?” she calls into the darkness.

Silence.

“Tula!”

More silence. She goes in and nearly stumbles on a slumbering someone.

Fuck it. “Latula!” She’s careful not to be too loud.

“Meenah, what?” a sleepy voice answers. She makes her way to it, barely able to see her frond’s outline in the dim white moonlight.

She bends down and says, “We need ta’ talk.”

“Can’t it wait ‘til we can see the hands in front of our faces first?”

“Fine, but we’re plannin’ it first thing! Even before breakfast!”

“Okay, okay! Go to bed, Meenah.” She rolls over, back to Meenah.

Meenah sleeps a bit easier that night.

* * *

“You look weird, Kanaya,” Karkat states.

She takes another look in the rust-spotted mirror. The bandages aren’t very appealing, but at least she didn’t pass out. As soon as her horns scar over, which will be in a few days, she will be able to go out among the humans and start getting a job.

In the reflection, she sees Karkat bend down over the tub and pull out her dismembered horns. “Gross. Glad I don’t have to do this.”

“The final step is to file them down some.”

“I don’t understand why this is such a messy process.”

“The closest reasoning I can come to is the bundle of nerves it stores. It’s connected to blood vessels, so—”

“I know troll anatomy! I just…” He shudders.

Kanaya rolls her eyes. “It needs to happen, so I will naturally be the one to do my part. We _are_ co-leaders, after all.”

“I’ll go, too.”

Kanaya is taken aback. “Are you sure?”

“If I can manage a couple of bratty seadwellers, plus babysit a bunch of violence-based trolls, I think I can get a fucking job.”

She smiles. “I’m surprised at you, Karkat.” He’s sweet sometimes.

“Maybe we could talk about our ancestors while we’re out?” he forces out. She gives him a glance from the corner of her eye and sees that he probably doesn’t want to. He probably suggested it because he just remembered it was the last time they were truly alone together.

“We’ll see what happens.”

* * *

 

“What do you think? would you go with me?” Meenah asks after explaining her minnowmal plan to Latula. “I don’t think the captain would notice, since she’s an invalid now.” Oh yes, she knows. She figured it out a few months ago. She hadn’t really noticed that her world wasn’t full of spiders anymore until Latula it pointed out. It may have been privileged information, but Meenah didn’t care. Serket’s out.

Latula pauses.

“If you don’t want to go, just say so.” Meenah was getting nervous, even before she told her best frond anything at all.

“I don’t want to go without Mituna.”

“That’s all?” Meenah sighs with relief. “Just take him with us! The more the merrier!”

“Really?” Latula gives her the happiest smile. Meenah feels good for once. “But what about Aranea?”

Oh, fuck. “Leave her to me. She’s a blubber-mouth, and I don’t want nobody catchin’ wind of this, get it?” If Aranea could just keep her flippin’ load gaper shut, they wouldn’t get in trouble so much!

“Got it.” Latula nods. “But what about money?”

Meenah’s breath caught in her throat. “Why do you always ask the hard questions?”

“Should we take from Vriska’s stash?”

“Nah, that’s a risk I’m not willin’ to lose my gills over. We have to get a job.”

Latula grasps her horns and whimpers softly.

“Oh come on! Mine are bigger than yours! ‘Sides, if we earn all our own money, it’ll be a while anyway.”

“What’chu two doing?” an annoying voice asks, draping himself over Latula.

“Hey, ‘Tuna!” she coos, ruffling his hair.

“Bluh,” Meenah comments.

“We’re going somewhere in a while, and you’re coming with us,” Latula informs him.

“What about Kurloth!” he says a little too loudly.

“Naw, man, he creeps me the fuck out,” Meenah says immediately.

“Then I ain’t going!”

“Meenah, just let him come with us,” Latula says.

“Then he’s going to want Meulin to tag along! She can’t leave my fins alone!” Meenah covers her cheeks subconsciously.

After much debate and begging and kicking and screaming, she finally agreed to not only let Kurloz and Meulin come along, but the whole coddam group.

All they need now is some flippin’ _money!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's title is brought to you by: Pink Floyd


	15. Demons and Monsters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the thirteenth chapter, where we officially meet four more important [human] characters.

“And how are you with children?” the blond woman asks.

“You can say I’m the best,” Kanaya answers. “I practically raised my twelve adopted siblings, who have all become very independent in their own right.” She stretched the truth slightly, but it seemed to work on the woman sitting across the table at the public café. It took a few months, but she finally got an interview: a human family in desperate need a nanny. Thankfully, it’s not every day. They have two children, both extremely mischievous, according to the newspaper advertisement. Although, from their current position in the rolling furniture, they actually look quite high above suspicions. She sympathized with the parents to that extent.

“Oh, wow!” she exclaims. She looks over to her partner, who is beside her and hiding behind angled shades, also blond. He’s crossing his arms and leaning back in a very lazy manner. He shrugged. “In his language, that means he approves.”

“Excellent,” Kanaya says with a smile. She’s still wary of the man, though.

“One more question.”

“Yes?”

“When can you start?” She almost fell out of her chair with excitement when she asked that.

“Immediately, if you like.” Karkat came with her again today. He’s busy finding a job somewhere else. It would be splendid if he found one today as well.

The couple then whispers harshly to each other. She doesn’t want to pry, but only pick up parts of words, like they’re speaking in code. Kanaya also doesn’t like memorizing the names of her potential employers past the meeting stages, simply because there would be no point if the interview fell flat.

“I apologize for asking, but what are your names again?”

They stop talking and both turn to her. “Roxy Lalonde,” the mother says.

“Dirk Strider,” says the father.

“Can you do tomorrow?” Ms. Lalonde asks.

“Yes, I can,” Kanaya answers confidently.

“Then you’re hired,” Mr. Strider flatlines.

“Dirk, give a little more excitement than that…” Ms. Lalonde nudges him with her elbow.

He slowly turns his head towards his partner. “You don’t want to see me when I’m excited.”

“Do it.”

He slowly turns his head back to Kanaya. “You’re hired!” he exclaims suddenly, throwing up two of his fingers. It must mean something to humans, because he stayed like that for a few moments before Kanaya imitated his gesture. He laughs shortly in response.

“Great!” Ms. Lalonde says. “Best Christmas present ever!” She looked over to her children when she said that. It was sweet. It’s also past the holiday, which thoroughly befuddles Kanaya as to why they would still be celebrating it after the day. Kanaya also thinks she thinks too much on certain things.

“What time do you need me? My commute takes at least three hours.” She hopes she doesn’t need to wake up too early in the day. Vriska is the only one that can drive the boat, and she’s not a morning person.

Without hesitation, Mr. Strider asks, “Six in the evening?”

“Alright Ms. Lalonde and Mr. Strider. I will be there.”

She laughs out loud. “Please! Call me Roxy. And he’s fine with just ‘Dirk’. I hope we can become more than just your employers. I like to think that Nannies are more like a friend than as an employee, even though you’re paid to hang out with our children.”

“Sounds bad when you put it that way, Rox,” Dirk comments.

“I know, I’m terrible!”

Just then, she sees Karkat milling around out front of the large glass windows. It looks like he’s debating coming inside. “I’m very sorry but, my partner is waiting for me out front. He doesn’t like children very much, and he looks—”

“Is he hot?” Roxy interrupts.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Does he have the goods?” Dirk says.

“I don’t—” Kanaya thinks she knows where they’re going with this, but she wasn’t sure.

“Just ignore her, she loves romance when it comes to other people.”

“Oh.”

“Oh Dirk, Stoo-foo.” There’s that code-speak again. She leans in close. “What I mean is, do you _like_ him?”

Kanaya’s eyes widen. She swallows uncomfortably and looks back at her fellow troll, glaring at his reflection while trying to cover up his horns with his mess of a haircut. She had never really thought about being flushed for anyone, much less Karkat, so she answers honestly. “We’re partners, that is all.”

“Well, so are we, Roxy,” Dirk says. Kanaya turns back to them and sees that his hand is on her shoulder playfully. “Not romantically involved, but are connected by offspring. We’re a team. Making it a big deal about romance is only going to end up awkward. Especially if there’s epic sex involved.” Some patrons look over and give them dirty looks, but don’t say anything.

Before Kanaya could ask, Roxy responds. “You didn’t have to say that in such a playful tone,” Roxy says, squinting her eyes to the side.

“Before we make this any more awkward than it needs to be, I really should go meet him,” Kanaya says, standing up carefully. “He has been ready to go home since we left for the day.”

“Sounds fun,” Roxy says.

“Sounds like a killjoy,” Dirk says.

“Takes one to know one, shades,” Roxy whispers.

“Said the life of the party.”

Kanaya could tell they were using inside jokes against each other, so she bids one last farewell and leaves. Karkat is in utter shambles.

“Kanaya, fuckin’ hell!” he greets.

“Did you find a job?” she asks.

“No, it was a bust.” He sighs angrily. “I just wish I wouldn’t have lost Gamzee.”

“You lost him?” She’s not surprised. He’s always wandering off. “Vriska will leave us behind if we don’t find him. Have you looked in the usual gambling hangouts?”

“He’s an idiot if he goes near those places. Vriska’s not exactly an ‘honest player’ if you catch my drift.” When Kanaya looks at him with a confused expression, Karkat clarifies. “You get what I mean?” Where did he pick up that phrase?

“All too well.” She sighs and begins walking the route to the pier. “But on the brighter side, I got the job.”

“ _Humansitting?_ ” he enunciates with a disgusted look on his face.

“I am now a nanny,” she says proudly.

“May god save your soul.”

“I know you hate children, Karkat, but you don’t have to say it every time.”

“Yes I do.”

Kanaya rolls her eyes. They continue to walk along, and she only half listens to the suspicions flying out of Karkat’s mouth every other sentence. It’s always “Why is he looking at us like that”, or “Not going to apologize for bumping into me? Fuck you too, nookwipe”, and the occasional “Why is she showing so much skin?” Kanaya thought the last type was utterly rude, so she just responded appropriately by making half-hearted agreements.

* * *

Gamzee usually had an inkling of where he was, but this time, he is completely lost. The floor is cold and hard as a rock, and he can’t see the sky, or even a window. Thankfully, he still has his clothes on, but his bottle of Faygo is gone, and so is his collection of pine needles he always has in his pockets. They’re like a… sort of supply for him, when he just needs to calm the malicious thoughts threatening to take over his benign mind.

There are times when a troll has to ask himself, “What am I doing with my motherfuckin’ life?”

There are others when that same troll has to ask himself, “Where the motherfuck am I?”

He opens his eyes wider than slits and his eyes focus on a larger human sitting on the bench closest to him. Hairless and covered in tattoos, he gives Gamzee the creeps. His flushed face and scowl don’t scare him, though. He’s seen worse among his own peers, who were all pure muscle, unlike this guy, who looked like he used to have muscles, but are now only used to scare off predators. It reminds Gamzee of that flashy bird that’s popular with humans for the males being flashy. _What’s it called again?_ he wonders.

“A peacock,” he mumbles, chuckling.

Suddenly, the large human leans over and grabs Gamzee’s collar. “What the fuck did you just call me?” he snarls.

“Whoa brother, I swear it’s a compliment.” Gamzee implores the male, but the thoughts are already flowing.

“Compliment? Do I look like a fuckin’ _homosexual_ , motherfucker?!”

“Naw not a compliment.” He can’t stop them now. They are already here. And there ain’t no slime, no ex-moi-fucking-rail to stop him. “I SPEAK THE MOTHERFUCKIN’ TRUTH, MOTHERFUCKER!” His eyes are wide and his sharp teeth bared.

The guy pulls Gamzee up from the floor and smashes him back down again. Fuckin’ ow. “You goin’ down a dangerous path, asshole! Do you have any idea who I am?” He shifts his grip to Gamzee’s throat. Like Highbloods need air. They’re so high, they could live forever. Gamzee spits in his face. “I’m going to kill you!” the human yells, wiping the ooze off his face. When he sees the color of it, he mutters, “What in the fuck?”

Gamzee takes this opportunity to grab the fucker’s wrist with one hand, and his elbow with the other, pushing it where it’s not supposed to bend. The human loosens his grip and Gamzee easily flips him facedown, pulling the arm back just before the point of dislocation. He can tell that the writhing being now at his mercy is trying not to cry out. That needs to change.

“I don’t fuckin’ care who you are,” Gamzee whispers. “ALL I CARE ABOUT IS YOUR MOTHERFUCKIN’ BLOOD ON THE MOTHERFUCKIN’ WALLS!” He looks behind him at the other skittish humans cowering in the corner of the cell. It reminds him of the brig on the ship, where he spent months in almost total darkness. He cocks his head sharply to the side. “Are you next?” They’re too scared to even shake their heads. He turns back to the one on the floor. “AS FOR YOU.”

“Stop! Please!” he begs. “I have kids!” HOW ADORABLE!

“Should have thought of them before you got into this den of miracles.” Gamzee pulls slightly, almost there. He surprises himself at all this control. Miracles all over the place all up in here. “I WILL MAKE MYSELF PERFECTLY CLEAR! I will break off your arm if you say another motherfuckin’ word to me. YOU DON’T KNOW ME. Where I’ve been. WHERE I HAVE COME FROM!” He lets go and stands up, nudging him under the bench with his foot.

True to his primitive nature, he whimpers and soothes the alleged pain in his arms that Gamzee has known all too well. His trainers and elders have used that exact move on him and others when they disobeyed the order of things. He has seen blood colors of all types splatter on the sacred walls. He smirks at the situation: he is now the elder, the student has become the teacher. He turns on his heel and approaches the bars. Grabbing them, he holds on for dear life and shakes them violently.

“Hey! GET ME OUT OF HERE! The voices… I CAN HEAR THEM!” Gamzee pleads. He suddenly lets out a high-pitched shriek, which surely made his fellow prisoners cover the ears.

A guard rushes in. “What’s going on in here?!” he shouts.

“The voices, brother…” Gamzee shudders. “I NEED MY SLIME, MOTHERFUCKER!” He clutches the sides of his head, where his horns used to be.

The guard briefly inspects his cellmates. “You’re going to your own cell, dickweed.” He takes out his cuffs. “Hands through the bars,” he orders.

Gamzee complies. After cuffing him, the guard then takes out his keys and unlocks the cell door. He roughly takes Gamzee’s forearm and yanks him out of the cell. Motherfucking rude.

After locking the cell back up, Gamzee takes his chance. He headbutts the guard, knocking him out cold. Unlocking himself, he drags the guard far from the main cell and lifts his credentials.

Looking over to the others still locked in the cell, he smiles his signature deranged smile. “I need my slime. MIRACLE SLIME FROM THE HEAVENS! You should try it sometime.” He turns to the door and unlocks it. “I HAVE A BOAT TO CATCH!”

For a house of the law, it’s incredibly easy to slip in and out of places, Gamzee concludes. He successfully eludes the scant population of uniformed humans and gets his shit back. After a while, he begins to realize why he was able to escape so easily.

“Motherfuckin’ sun went down without me.”

* * *

Karkat paces around the seaside motel room feverishly. He and Kanaya waited too long for Gamzee and missed the ferry to the rendezvous island where Vriska drops them off. Now they’re stuck in a flea-infested, dirty-ass room, with no record player or any kind of electronics whatsoever, and two noisy cots.

“I believe they’re called ‘mattresses’, Karkat.” And speaking of Kanaya, she hadn’t made full eye contact with him since he picked her up from the interview. What the fuck is her deal, anyway?

“I don’t care!” he fires. “What I care about is the safety of my friend! We trusted him to do what again?” He’s been so focused on finding a decent job, not some minimum wage bovineshit, that he spaced when Kanaya explained the reason why Gamzee even tagged along in the first place.

“He was supposed to be finding a job with you,” she says calmly.

“So you’re saying this was my fault?”

“No, I’m saying he shouldn’t have left you alone.”

“Fine. But next time this important shit comes up, make sure I’m fucking _listening!_ ” Karkat kicks at a chair, which subsequently breaks. “Son of a grub-fucking shit licker!”

“We should sleep,” Kanaya suggests.

“You sleep, I’ll pace.”

“Ugh!” He hears shuffling. “Karkat!”

“What?!” He turns to face her.

“Pile!” she shouts, pointing to a new pile of blankets she apparently pulled off the bed and thrown on the floor. The sight of it did the opposite effect right away.

“Y-you’re—what the f-fuck is this?” he stammers. “This is infidelity!”

“I don’t want to do it either, but I don’t think I have any choice!” She’s serious. “You’re doing this, not me!”

He raises an accusatory finger. “I—!” He stops himself. He lowers his hand and takes a few deep but shaky breaths. It helps slightly, but just enough to not feel the need to break shit anymore. “I’m fine!”

She lowers her hand as well. “You’re angry.”

“No really, I’m better!” he says with a raised voice. He lowers it and tries again. “I’m fine.”

She gives him one last “are you sure” look. When he nods, she sighs dejectedly. She turns wordlessly to the pile and starts putting them all back on the bed. Not once did she meet his gaze. Karkat realizes then that she was ready to do whatever it took.

“I’m sorry, Kanaya.”

“Let’s get some sleep.”

“I said I’m better!”

“I’ll take this bed.” She sheds her coat and drops it on the floor. She sits down on the bed closest to the door, still not making eye contact.

“Jegus fuck, you’re not listening to me!” Terezi used to do this same shit when she was angry with him. Karkat walks towards her as she removes her pirate boots. Even though she chose to wear a long green dress for today’s interview, all she still had for shoes were those pirate boots.

“I am listening.”

“What’s your deal then?!” he shouts, throwing his arms up.

“My deal?!” she stands up suddenly, getting in his face. Karkat doesn’t flinch at her shorter stature, but he does blink. Kanaya doesn’t usually explode in an emotional fit like this. She frowns and purses her lips. With a toned down voice, she says, “I don’t have one. I’m sorry I exploded in an emotional fit. A lot of things happened today, and I guess it was just one thing on top of another thing on top of yet another thing.” She sighs. “I’m sorry.”

Karkat frowns again, wondering what things she’s talking about. Sitting on his own bed across from her, he digresses. “Were you really going to pap me?”

“I don’t know.” She sits as well, slouching. “I felt like I had no choice, since you were smashing furniture, so I did the first thing that came to my mind.” Back when they were on Vriska’s ship, he learned really fast that when Captain Vriska Mindfang Spinneret got emotional, things got broken.

“I’m sorry. Again. Fucking again.”

“Let’s just sleep. We will find Gamzee in the morning. I have to start working tomorrow evening.”

“Good luck.”

She smiles gently. “Thank you, Karkat.” At that, she slips under the covers and turns away from him. “Good night.”

For some reason, he feels his face flush. It was a sarcastic comment, but she probably thought it was genuine, so she reacted like she was given genuine advice. He suppresses a growl and gets under his covers too, kicking off his still-tied shoes. He reaches over to the lamp to turn it off and says, “Good night Kanaya.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's title is brought to you by: Imagine Dragons


	16. How are we going to be optimists about this?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it is heavily implied that Eridan and Feferi did a thing... :P  
> plus more "bloodymary" things are happen... :D
> 
> oh, and before I forget: mild trigger warning for abuse ahead. It involves Vriska.

Karkat wakes up to an insistent pounding. Did he actually sleep a full night last night? He looks over at the digital clock—the only thing in the cheap motel room run by electricity—and sees that it is almost nine. The knocking brings his attention back to being awake. This is so very familiar. He just hopes it isn’t Eridan, because that would be fucking weird.

“I’m coming!” he yells. He throws off the covers, ignoring his shoes that were still in the bed. He suddenly remembers Kanaya and eyes the bed as he passes by. The bed is made. She’s not there. Karkat frowns, then sighs with relief. She’d already gotten up then. He looks through the eyehole and sees Kanaya, holding some sort of shopping bag. He lets her in.

“Karkat, I’ve been knocking for ten minutes!” she scolds as she pushes past him. A waft of air follows her, and it smells like food.

“Sor- _ry_ for waking up thirty seconds ago,” he grumbles. “Where the hell did you go so early?”

“I couldn’t get back to sleep, so I went out,” she says, not missing a beat. She opens the food bag, releasing the smells. “I also picked up a meal for us. It’s not as hot as before, and I was waiting for you so we could eat together.” Turning back to him, she holds four round and yellow bundles, two in each hand. “I don’t know what they are, but they're popular and they're cheap.”

Karkat takes two of them and inspects one, holding it close to his eye. He sniffs it. “Smells like shit, but I don’t care.” He opens his mouth, but Kanaya stops him.

“You’re supposed to unwrap it,” she says, pointing.

“I know that!” he rips the wax paper off to reveal a sandwich eerily similar to a banned food product on Alternia. It happened sweeps before Karkat was hatched. Too many genetic factors were involved, and there was a scandal that involved mad troll disease. It turned out that even though lusi eating lusi was safe, trolls eating trolls was most definitely _not_. He remembers being bored on the internet and looking this shit up. He resists the urge to sniff it again and takes a bite. “Fucking delicious,” he mumbles through chewed food. “What, no drinks?” he asks, mouth still full.

“I’m not even going to dignify that with a response.”

* * *

 

“Vristhka, weren’t you suppoth to pick up Karkat and them?” Sollux asks Vriska.

She lifts up her hat from her face and smirks. She _was_ napping in her boat on the shore, which is tied to a large rock. She shrugs.

“They didn’t make it, did they?”

She shakes her head smugly. “I told them,” she sing-songs, putting her hat back where it was before. The next thing she knows, it’s being ripped off.

“Why are you such a bitch all the fucking time?” He’s holding her hat. How dare he. It’s a one-of-a-kind cerulean blue pirate hat she found at a store on Alternia. Eridan found it while he was hunting about a month ago and she has never let it out of her sight since. Never again.

“Oh, so you can speak without lith-ping,” she replies. She makes a grab for it. “Give me my hat!”

“You’re unbelievable. Why don’t you make me?” He points to his left eye and makes a face.

“Fuck you!” she stands up, rocking the boat. They both stumble, but Vriska has better sea legs, so she snatches the hat away as he falls on his ass. Serves him right.

“Holy shit, Mituna wath right,” he mutters under his breath.

Vriska feels the blood drain from her face. Her blood pusher stops pushing for half a second. She smirks and says, “For once, right?” Little shit is always crying wolf.

“You really can’t do it, can you?” She can see a wave of understanding flood Sollux’s face. “All the kidth were talking about it, but I didn’t think it’d actually be true.”

Vriska swallows uncomfortably. She climbs out of the boat silently and starts walking up the shore and into the trees. She concentrates on her breathing, which quickens as she begins to run up the hill, dodging trees, roots, fallen snags… She runs as soon as she gets to the clearing in front of the mansion. As soon as she does, she throws open the doors, letting them slam against the wall behind them.

“ALL RIGHT, YOU LITTLE SHITS!” she yells, not moving from the doorway. “FRONT AND CENTER!” As soon as she hears the pitter patter of twelve pairs of feet, she storms to the fireplace and stands in front of it. Who told them? It wasn’t Kanaya, because she wouldn’t betray her moirail like that. Maybe they figured it out? Maybe Damara had…

They all assemble quietly, sitting on the ground. Only two of them don’t have fear in their expressions: Damara and… Latula.

“As second in command, I order you to tell me all about this rumor that you heard about me.” What happened to all of her irons? She looks over to Aranea, who _should_ have been her eyes and ears, but she looks away. Vriska’s eye twitches. “What is it? Who started it? And how are all twelve of you going to fix it?”

Ten of them, save Meenah and Latula, point to the culprit. Meenah retaliates, of course. “Fuck you guys! Latula was tryin’ ta kelp!”

“Save the fish puns, Meenah,” Vriska says, walking towards Latula. The other ten, save Meenah again, clear a path. “This is between me and Latula.”

“ ‘Tula!” Mituna shrieks. Out of the corner of Vriska’s eye, she sees Kurloz holding him back. He’s trying to pap his squirming moirail.

“I’ll be fine, ‘Tuna,” Latula says, glancing at him. She purses her lips, trying to control her breathing.

Vriska glares at the young troll, bending at the waist and leaning close. “Do you know what happens to little grubs who can’t keep their load gapers shut?”

“Vriska!” Meenah cries.

“I am not talking to you, Peixes! And it’s still _‘Captain’_ to you!” She takes Latula by the arm and stands her up. “In the brig! Right next to the mother grub. It’s dark, it’s wet, and it’s dirty. And rumor has it she’s hungry lately!”

Meenah launches herself at Vriska, but she dodges the highblood easily. She crashes into Rufioh, successfully snapping one of his horns on the cement foundation. Horuss rushes to his side, trying to wrap the now-bleeding horn with his shirt. _Rufioh shouldn’t have been in the crossfire_ , she thinks.

Vriska makes eye contact with Aranea, who’s horrified at the sight of blood. “I’ll deal with you later,” she says through gritted teeth. To the rest, she says, “I may be out of commission for the time being, but I’m still as powerful as before! Any questions?” Nobody moves. “Good.”

She proceeds to drag the tealblood to the basement door, throws her in and locks it, pocketing the key. It needed to be done. What also needs to be done is a good pailing.

“ERIDAN!” she bellows. Where the _fuck_ is he?! She has a bone to pick with him. Last time, they played cards, in which Eridan won every single round. She has a different game in mind today, and it’s called “search and destroy”.

No answer. Not even a footstep.

She storms up the stairs, passing the young trolls again. Rufioh seems to be under control. “Dismissed!” she shouts, and they all disperse. She approaches Eridan’s block and pounds on the door. “Hey cape-boy! You stink at science, your cooking tastes like shit, and you swim like a wounded eel!”

* * *

Feferi wakes up first. She heard Vriska tearing past her closed door at breakneck speed. She turns to Eridan, covering herself with the thin blanket. She runs a hand over his facial fin solemnly. Waking up, he groans slightly. Thanks to him, her fears have been dispelled. At the moment, she no longer is a slave to her nature. She glances at the nearly-full bucket behind him. They weren’t even supposed to fill it, but one thing led to another and… It’s just been a long weekend.

Vriska is yelling for Eridan. Insults, probably.

“Eridan, something’s happening,” she whispers, gently shaking his arm.

Instead of opening his eyes, he feels around and holds Feferi against him in a hug. She flushes sub-consciously.

“Seariously, wake up!” she says, struggling in his arms.

“Why?”

“Vriska is at your block, I think.” She probably needs a rival session. Feferi grits her teeth, but it’s not like she and Eridan are officially red or anything! Although, ever since they crash-landed, he and Vriska had rekindled their blackrom again. It ended pretty badly when they were young, and it involved lots of shooshing and papping, but this time around they seemed a lot more together. And it’s not like Feferi is jealous, she just feels that as his moirail, she shouldn’t be allowing this sort of thing to happen again, especially with one who is so… so demanding!

“She can wait,” he mumbles sleepily. His eyes are still closed, and she thinks he looks so much better when he’s sleeping. He’s not stressed out when he’s like this. “I’m tired.” They share almost everything, but she still thinks he hides things from her sometimes.

Feferi sighs against his skin, her face flush against his cool shoulder. “Do you do that to all your black partners?” she quips. “Let them wait?”

“What she wants is to take her frustrations out on me,” he grumbles. “I’m not for that at all. Besides, that’s what moirails are for. She mixes quadrants and it’s wery annoyin’.”

“Kanaya isn’t here, though. Aren’t you the least bit worried?”

“Yes, but not now. I’m cuttlin’.”

Feferi hears a frustrated moan outside the door, as well as angry footsteps. She was scared that they would stop in front of her door and knock, but they didn’t even slow. She imagines that there wasn’t even a sideways glance towards Feferi’s door as Vriska passed by.

It was good enough for her.

* * *

“Well, you can tell those deadbeats back there that they need to find my friend, or the shit will hit the motherfucking whirl device!” Karkat shouts at the woman behind a glass reception window. It also has wires criss crossing through it, which made it hard for Karkat to focus on yelling.  “He has crazy, stupid hair, purple eyes, a dazed look, and about my height!” A pause. “Without the hair!”

“Mr. Vantas, I’m going to say it again,” the wrinkled bag warns. “He’s. Not. Here. There was a similar person matching that description that was brought in last night, but he _disappeared_. They’ve put an APB out on him, but until then, you can wait here in the lobby until a detective comes in, or leave.”

“Fine!” He turns and stomps to one of the chairs and plops himself down on it. “I can wait!”

“I can’t,” Kanaya says, sitting down next to him. Shit, he forgot she was even here. “I have to prepare for tonight. I don’t want to go to my first job and be in the same clothes I was in yesterday.”

“Geez, you and your fashion sense,” Karkat scoffs. “Just wear the same clothes, it’s not like they have your wardrobe memorized.”

“I would like to show them that I am not lazy and can take care of myself, though.”

He gives her a look, attempting to say that it shouldn’t even matter, but then he actually thinks about it. If someone one can’t take care of themselves, what makes them think that they can take care of other people? Or children? Defeated, he leans back in his chair and scowls at the sign next to the uniformed receptionist’s face.

“I will stay for an hour.”

“How generous.”

“After that, I have to leave. Do you want something to eat before I leave for my job tonight?”

His organs groan for sustenance. “Sure.”

An hour passes by too quickly. They both watch as criminals of all sorts are taken in and out through the doors by tough-looking uniformed authority regulators. Some spouted curses almost as creative as Karkat himself, and others cried like pathetic babies. He silently wished for all of them to shut the fuck up.

“Can I get more of that shit from the yellow place?”

“The hamburger place, you mean?”

“Yeah.” Whatever crap they put in that food was all sorts of illegal, but at the moment, he doesn’t give a shit. “Thank you in advance.”

“You’re welcome in advance.” She smiles and turns towards the door.

As soon as she leaves, a stern-looking man with a yellow trench coat and a badge walks in. He is short, but taller than Karkat, slightly scruffed, and has strikingly light blue eyes. He nods to the woman at the desk and goes right in the door beside her. She stops him and says something, pointing at Karkat. He looks over and nods again, expressionless, says something to the lady, and lets the door shut behind him.

“Mr. Vantas?” she calls.

“Is that the fucking detective?” Karkat Vantas answers, getting up.

“He’ll be with you in a moment, please stay seated.”

“Fina-fuckin-lee,” he mutters.

* * *

Kanaya didn’t have much for finances left, but it was enough to purchase an outfit and some food. The time at the authority regulation headquarters read 1:30, which is just enough time.

Down the street is one of those food places, so she starts towards that first. It’s hard to miss, since it’s bright yellow on a cloudy day. The wind blows right through her and she shivers. Was it this cold yesterday? Perhaps she should get a windbreaker. To her right, there’s a store selling just that. And the sign reads “sale”. From what little she can read of the human language, she understands that it must be for sale, not just a work of art, on display for the masses. She used to do that when she owned her own clothing gallery. Back then, she dreamed of designing garments for the wealthy, but Vriska’s shenanigans got them so deep in debt, she had to give it up. Or it could mean that they are at a discount price.

She double checks her balance and determines it a good idea to go inside. If worse comes to worst, she could wear it over her current clothes and the human couple won’t be any the wiser.

When she steps inside, she is slightly overwhelmed at the lack of color. Nearly every coat, jacket, and windbreaker were dark colored or neutral. On the bright side, the racks all donned the word “sale”.

“Can I help you find something?” a salesperson asks behind her.

“Yes!” Kanaya says, turning around. “I would like a windbreaker, please. It is quite chilly outside.”

“Hmm,” the person says, looking her up and down. “I know just the thing.” They go over to one of the walls and pulls down what looks like a cape. It is large and gray in color. “This particular one is very dynaminc, and perfect for carrying things underneath. Plus it’s unisex.”

“I see.” She looks at the tag, which reads “$129.98”. She sighs. It’s a steep price.

“Do you want to try it on?”

“No, I—” She’s about to reject, but stops herself. She glances at the other items and sees that some of them are even more expensive. She bites her bottom lip, trying not to expose her fangs. “I’ll take it.” Maybe she could let the others borrow it, since it seems to double as a blanket.

“Great! I’ll ring it right up.”

After she pays for the thing, she immediately puts it on and goes back outside. Karkat must be starving right now. She hurries to get to the restaurant. This particular one is advertising new toys that come with their “happy” meals, miniature four-wheeled devices for boys, and yellow-haired dolls for girls. She imagines getting one of those meals for Karkat, so maybe he could lighten up a little, so she does. She orders another one for herself, finding herself quite fond of the yellow hair. Maybe she could keep the toys for the children she’s going to take care of.

With the food in tow, underneath her new cape, she makes her way back to the station. She is done shopping for now, and decides to stay with Karkat until she has to be at work.

Kanaya walks up to the receptionist. “Where is my friend from earlier?” she asks.

“He’s talking to a detective. Please wait out here, he’ll be finished in a bit. The detective was zealous enough to listen to your case.”

“That’s good to hear, I guess.” She takes the food with her and sits patiently.

Five minutes pass. She looks up at the clock again. It’s nearly three. There’s still time, but not much. The door finally opens again, and Karkat steps out. At least he isn’t scowling. “Food!” he exclaims. He rushes over and snatches one of the triangle-shaped boxes and pauses at the words. “H-A-P-P-Y… M-E-A-L?” He scowls again. So much for that. “Is this a joke?”

“No.” But she admits that it is a humorous concept in hindsight. “It’s food.”

He narrows his eyes and shrugs. Opening it, he reaches inside and takes out the toy.

“I’ll take that,” she says, reaching.

“Fine.” He hands it to her and takes out the small, wrapped sandwich, and shoves most of it in his load gaper. “Tastes like shit,” he says, muffled. He swallows and asks, “What are you wearing?”

“A cape.” She pockets the toy next to the girl’s toy she also picked up. “It’s windy out.”

“Capes are dumb.” He finishes off the burger. “You look like Eridan.”

She resists all urges to cringe. He did _not_ just say that to her. “This one is warmer. It’s a windbreaker. Plus it can hold the both of us when we go out.”

He turns red. “Whatever. I’ll be fine.”

Needless to say that Karkat was not fine when he stepped out into the cold. He immediately went for her cape and wrapped himself next to her. He is actually warmer than she is. For someone with bright red blood, it would make sense that he would be. How he could feel cold was beyond her.

They venture to the pier, where the ferry was already waiting to take the masses to their rendezvous. There, by the public restrooms, stands a familiar wild-haired figure.

“Karkat.” She points ahead.

“What?” He squints. “Gamzee?”

Still far away, the figure looks up as if he heard his name. Sure enough, it is Gamzee. Karkat rushes ahead.

“Gamzee! Where the hell were you?” she heard him ask. She walks a bit faster to catch up to them.

“Around the town, bro,” Gamzee answers. He smiles, his pine needles in his teeth as usual. She let herself toy with the idea of replacing slime with the sap, but as soon as the substance hit her tongue, she spat it out immediately and looked for a way to get the taste out of her memory. But now that she thinks of it, she hasn’t had many nightmares as she did on Alternia. Most of the time, she doesn’t even remember dreaming in the first place. It’s honestly best not to dwell too much on the subject.

Karkat responds to Gamzee’s answer by kicking him where he is most sensitive. Kanaya cringes at the sound the impact makes as he crumbles to the floor.

“Karkat, why?” he whines.

“A fucking APB is out on you, dumbshit.”

“A pee-bee?” Gamzee groans, getting back to his feet. “I’m confused.”

“That means the police want to arrest you!”

“Why?”

“Because you escaped prison! Why on this god-forsaken planet in the flaming nookhole of the universe would you escape an authority regulation building?! You have probably guaranteed your execution now!”

Kanaya interjects. “Karkat, I don’t think that’s how it works here.”

“This is none of your—” He stops himself and slaps his forehead. She gives him a knowing look, conveying that it is, in fact, her business, because they’re all in this together.

“I’m sorry,” Gamzee says sorrowfully.

“Well, we don’t have time to drop you off there, so I guess we’ll just turn you in tomorrow,” Karkat concludes.

Kanaya looks to the nearest clock, which is a simple digital clock above the two restroom doors, as sees that she has to leave, too. The couple had given her the address before the interview had started, so she had an idea where to go.

“I have to take a city bus,” she states.

“Good luck, Kanaya,” Karkat blurts. “Come back to us alive.”

“Please,” she says confidently. “It’s only two human children. Their mother said they’re only a year old, albeit mischievous. I think that’s roughly half a sweep. Human babies aren’t as independent as troll grubs. The only thing they can do at this stage is crawl on their hands and knees.” She smiles and turns in the general direction of the bus terminal. “How hard can this be?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's title was inspired by: Bastille


	17. Holes Of My Sweater

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here I go again, procrastinating for a month before writing again. Here's for everyone who's going through some cold stuff while i'm in......florida. ANYWAY, enjoy~

Twenty minutes after she had arrived at the Stri-Londe household, as the current residents called it affectionately, they finally left Kanaya alone with Dave and Rose, and not once did they mention her wardrobe. Roxy did most of the explaining, their bedtimes, their usual falling asleep habits, etc., and all Dirk uttered was one line:

“Don’t let Dave know you’re not onto his shit.” Kanaya had no idea what he meant by that, but it was clearly a warning.

“Oh, and can you come again next month?” Roxy added. Dirk was pushing her out the door by the time she said, “The fourteenth! It’s—!” Then he slammed the door and Kanaya locked it from the inside. For some reason it has four locks, one inaccessible from the outside. She was told that one was only for emergencies. During her interview, she was asked if she would defend the children to the death, and Kanaya said she would. Perhaps they were in hiding?

Rose interrupts her flashback, babbling and tugging on Kanaya’s trousers. The girl is on her hands and knees, looking up expectantly.

“Yes, Rose?” Kanaya asks. Rose lifts up her arms and reaches as far as she can. “Oh, alright.” She bends down and picks Rose up like she would with Porrim when she had nightmares. For some reason, she was the only one who approached Kanaya for comfort from the nightmares. Quite literally none of the other young trolls even spoke about them in front of her. Kanaya pats Rose’s back gently. Rose pays back in kind by vomiting. Slightly miffed, Kanaya cautiously examines the damage by pulling her head away and turning to see her shoulder. She sighs. Now she’ll have to change.

Rose giggles, and is about to lay her head back down in the bile when Kanaya holds her at arm’s reach.

“Rose, no,” Kanaya warns her. “Now, why did you do that?”

Rose’s eyebrows furrow.

Kanaya mirrors her.

Rose goes into pre-hyperventilation mode. She’s going to start crying if Kanaya doesn’t do something. She looks around to see if there’s a towel nearby, but there aren’t. She could have sworn they were right next to her on the sofa. In fact, she remembers them clearly: there were three of them, all white. But now, they have disappeared. She wonders if—

“Dave?” Kanaya calls. She listens, but hears nothing except for Rose’s soft blubbering.

She scoffs and carefully sets Rose next to her on the ridged couch. She takes off her shirt and discards it on the ground next to her.

Suddenly, Rose is quiet again. She stares at Kanaya’s bare chest with wide, lavender eyes. Is there something on her chest? She glances down, but sees nothing. Well, scratch that, she needs a blouse of some kind.

But first things first: find Dave Strider.

* * *

 

“AA, what are you doing?” Sollux asks a bikini-clad Aradia. He found her sunbathing on the roof about twenty minutes ago, but went back inside to get her a blanket so that she wouldn’t freeze to death in the icy weather. It was a rare clear day, but the horizon is filled with ominous clouds.

“I’m sleeping,” she replies without opening her eyes.

“You need to protect your thkin. You’ll freethe.” He starts to unfold the blanket.

“I’m not cold!” She opens her eyes and turns her head towards him. “Come feel if you don’t believe me,” she teases.

Sollux knows where this is going, but feels the need to get back inside a warm building to do it. Well, one that is warmer than the outside. The one they are in currently protects from wind and rain (and whatever the ice on the ground was called), but not from cold. Currently, everyone is crowded around the fireplace except for Latula. Where was she even? “Ath much ath I would love to show you kinethetically how cold my handth are…”

“I think it’s my blood keeping me warm.” She sits up and swings her legs over the side of her towel sprawled out in the ground, her hair flowing behind her like Eridan’s dumb cape. “It’s rust-colored, so I’m warmer than most.”

“Juth come in,” he orders impatiently.

She makes a raspberry sound. “You’re no fun, Tholluckth.” She stands up and gathers her things. All he wanted to do at that moment was to just hold her in front of a fire and wait for Karkat to angrily throw more logs on the fire as it dies, and that fire was in the living room space, currently taken over by children.

“There’th a fire down by the front door.”

“Okay,” she says monotonously. Throwing the towel over her shoulder, she saunters towards Sollux, swaying purposefully. She’s only like this when they’re alone together, which is just fine with him.

* * *

 

Nepeta Leijon is never prepared for cold weather. She only brought the clothes on her back, which was a tank top and knee-length shorts, along with her least favorite socks with most favorite hiking boots. The only thing that made her remotely warm was her kitty cat hat. Sometimes she removed her tail and wrapped it around her neck. It did nothing to the rest of her. She wishes Kanaya and Karkat would come home with something she could snuggle in.

And what the hell happened to all the birds?! She usually spent her time chasing them away from her kills in various traps set around the island, but they all flew away a few months ago. She pouts at the memories of frolicking among the trees, catching birds and setting them back into the wild. There was something about holding small animals in her hands… gently, of course. She never killed the small ones. They’re much too cute to eat.

Raccoons, though. Fuck raccoons. They hiss. They’re mean. They chew up her pelts.

A cold wind suddenly blows right through her clothes. She shivers violently and heads toward the back door. Away from the cold. On days like this on Alternia, which wasn’t very often, maybe once a sweep, she’d invite Equius for a few days and his workout routine would keep the cave warm while Pounce De Leon hibernated. She tried hibernating once, but couldn’t stay asleep for more than two days.

She still misses them.

It’s too cold.

She finally gets to the door and it doesn’t open. She hisses at it and jiggles the handle, nearly ripping it off the mansionhive. She checks the window. The kitchen is empty. Of course. She’s not climbing up the walls, that’s fur sure! They have ice all over them! She’ll have to go all the way to the front. Where the fire is.

Something passes her line of sight close to her face. It’s small, but it still startles her. She stops, blinking around her. What was that? She frowns and keeps going.

Then it happens again! She follows it right into the side of the building. She rubs her head and tries to look for it again, but it’s gone. She grunts in frustration as she continues her trek.

When she turns the corner to the side of the hive, she sees hundreds of the tiny things falling on the slope in front. She gasps and runs into the flurry, holding her hand out.

“So purr-etty,” she mumbles. Holding her hands in a bowl, she catches some and they melt as soon as they touch her skin. The little star shapes remind her of the one time she tried to venture to her moirail’s hive by herself. He found her about a hundred feet from his front door, covered in—

“SNOW!” a high-pitched screech interrupts her reminiscing. She turns, the front door wide open. Nepeta hears shouts to close the door from the inside. Subtlety isn’t one of Meulin’s strong suits. She’s not deaf, but her hearing is bad enough to where she shouts a lot. “KUHLOZ! LET’S RUN IN IT!” Immediately after, Kurloz follows her out, catching the flakes on their tasting apparatuses.

Nepeta smiles and does the same.

* * *

 

Vriska didn’t know what she was thinking when she threw Latula down with the young mother grub. She was angry and made a stupid decision. Now she has to deal with it. This could be her opportunity to make good with her ex-crew. It had absolutely nothing to do with Mituna’s inane blubbering.

Blanket in tow, she unlocks the door and tosses the blanket down.

“If you’re still alive, take this,” she calls into the darkness. “It’s cold out there.”

As she closes the door, she hears footsteps on the wooden stairs. As she locks it, a faint “Thank you.”

“Stay warm, pipsqueak,” she mumbles. Since it’s nearly dark, she goes to her own room, now with one less blanket, and goes right to sleep.

* * *

 

Kanaya: Find Dave Strider.

Easier said than done. But enough speaking to the random commands in her head. She has looked everywhere for him to no avail. She sighs and puts Rose in her cradle upstairs. She goes down surprisingly well, closing her eyes right away. Just in case, she checks Dave’s cradle. Empty. Well then.

As she turns off the lightswitch, leaving the nightlight on, she hears a sound behind her. It sounded like someone was on the stairs. She doesn’t look. She’s seen this trick before. All she has to do is ignore him until he makes a mistake.

Making her way down the hallway, she hears a small giggle. Flicking her eyes down to the fake tree in the living block, she sees the glint of sunglasses. She passes by, feeling the boy’s stare.

Suddenly, she turns to snatch him up, reaching her hand, but he is nowhere to be seen. She frowns. Roxy and Dirk neglected to mention this little ability that he has developed. Kanaya has a feeling that he got the shades from his father. This is most likely what they meant by “mischievous”. But it’s all about to end.

“I wonder where Dave went,” she wonders aloud. She wanders to the kitchen. She opens the fridge, half of it filled with just apple juice. She raises her eyebrows in surprise. Who drinks this much apple juice? “I guess I’ll have to drink all the apple juice by myself, then.” The chair clatters behind her, like a small child had bumped into it and run off after. She ignores it again and takes one of the cartons out. It feels less than half full. “It really does seem unnecessary not to drink it once it’s been purchased.”

“Maah!” she hears a baby cry.

“Got you!” she exclaims, turning directly behind her. Carton in hand, she grabs Dave around his waist and hoists him onto her own waist. She hands him the carton and he giggles, clutching it to his face. The sunglasses tilt and she sees his striking red eyes. They reminds her of Karkat’s eyes: bright but cautious. “Let’s get you to bed, Dave.”

“Aah-joo,” he babbles, shaking the carton.

“Yes, you may take your apple juice.”

“Yay!” he laughs. Kanaya laughs too, tickling his belly all the way up the stairs. She puts him in his cradle and he falls asleep immediately. A quick check on Rose and she’s back out the door.

The time is 8:25. She finds the chair comfortable and sits. However, as soon as she does, a cry comes from upstairs. Then a second. She groans and gets back up. It seems one of them started crying and woke the other up. It could be a trick, but it could also be a nightmare.

She heads to Rose’s crib first, who is standing up against the bars with tears in her eyes. She lowers the barrier and picks her up. She turns to Dave, who is still sitting up while hugging the carton, and coos, “It’s okay, Dave. Rose just had a bad dream.” That seemed to calm him down, and he goes right back to sleep.

She hoists Rose up to her shoulder and held her close. Swaying back and forth, she hums a song sung to her by her mother grub. Mother grubs often hum while tending the unhatched eggs. She saw it firsthand, before she left for a life of fashion. To be honest, she doesn’t remember much of it. Soon, Rose drifts off as well.

Kanaya gently puts the girl back in her cradle and heads back down to the comfortable chair.

* * *

 

“It’s so cold!” Feferi exclaims as soon as she steps outside.

“Way too cold for swimmin’,” Eridan mutters.

“I don’t like it.” She likes the cold, but she has her limits. The younger trolls and Nepeta playing out in the falling snow made her want to enjoy the fun, too.

“Can we go back in?”

“Not yet! You’re such a fun sucker.”

“But you’re jus’ standin’ here!”

“I’ll get moving. Give me a minute.” She needs to defrost.

“Well?”

“Eridan, hang on!”

“I’m goin’ back where it’s warm.” At that, he turns on his heel back into the hive. “You comin’?”

Feferi sighs and follows him back inside. At least there’s a warm fire close by.

“I made you this,” he says suddenly. He’s holding a package wrapped in yellowed tabloids. Where did he produce that from? He wasn’t holding it before.

“What is it?” she asks, approaching.

He holds it out and she takes it. “Just open it.” He turns to stare at the fire. She curiously piers over to see his expression.

She shrugs and opens it. It’s a knitted pullover. It’s too large for normal use, but it’s her favorite colors, neon green and blue.

“I asked Kar and Kan to get some stuff,” he explains quickly. “I’ve been workin’ on it since it started gettin’ cold.”

She runs her fingers down the patterns woven with the soft yarn. It’s high quality, and she’s sure that Eridan made a fuss about getting good materials. She had no idea that he was so good at this stuff.

“It’s okay if you hate it. I’ll just take it apart an’—”

“I love it!” she shouts excitedly. She puts it on immediately. “I will filet you up if you throw your hard work away.” She leans in close. “Thank you,” she whispers, giving him a small peck on the cheek.

* * *

 

“Kanaya,” a soothing voice infiltrates her slumbering. Her torso feels heavy, like something is pinning her down. She opens her eyes and sees Roxy and Dirk’s faces filling her vision. She jolts awake, but she’s still pinned.

“The kids are on you,” Dirk deadpans. “We didn’t want to wake them up.” She looks down and sure enough, Rose and Dave are clinging to her like newly-hatched grubs. She nearly face-palms when she remembers that she didn’t close the barrier to Rose’s crib. Could she have set Dave free and both come down the stairs?

“Do you need me to take them upstairs?” Kanaya asks.

“If that’s alright with you,” Roxy says. “They’re usually not this cooperative with new people.”

“The hell did you do to them?” Dirk quips.

Kanaya balks. “I didn’t—”

Roxy hits him upside the head. “What he means is that he’s jealous.” She takes out a thick envelope. “Here’s your cash, and a little something fun in there.” She winks as she puts it in the pocket of Kanaya’s cape.

Kanaya blinks. “Alright.” Carefully, she picks up the children and carries them back upstairs. They didn’t even stir. Even more carefully, she put them in their cribs and made sure the barriers were up. She lingers over Rose. “You cried on purpose, didn’t you?”

Rose just smiles in her sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's title was brought to you by: The Neighbourhood.


	18. I Knew You Were Trouble When...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I drew the picture. It was me.

“What’s wrong, brother?” Gamzee asks. Karkat really isn’t in the mood for his babbling, and he figures that answering Gamzee’s innocuous question will spare him of that.

“It’s too cold here,” he spits. But it beats dying back on Alternia for his mutant blood or execution for treason. On second thought, “I’d rather be on Alternia, then at least I’ll be able to feel my digits when I die instead of freezing to death out here.” He rubs his hands together, trying to warm them up. Seriously, this wind is fucking ridiculous.

“You get used to it.” Karkat sees that he is squinting into the wind, staring out into the fog. You’d almost think he was thinking about something intensely, but Karkat knows it’s probably about Faygo. He then twitches and starts patting himself all over until he reaches deep into his pants pocket and takes out a bottle full of colored liquid. “Man, look.” He holds it up like a trophy. There wasn’t a label on it.

“Gamzee, that is _not_ what I think it is.”

“A miracle?”

“No. God, no.”

“Faygo,” he whispers.

“Of course it is!” He throws his arms up, shoving Gamzee out of the way.

“So should I be offended or proud that you two have completely forgotten that I was here?” Vriska pipes up. “I mean, come _on_ , you _are_ in my boat. I should get some recognition every once in a while.”

“No one cares, Vriska!” he huffs, sitting himself behind her.

“You know, if I weren’t so invested in your business already, I’d think you were trying to flirt with me.”

“Yeah, yeah, you and your stupid irons.” He pauses. “And I’m not flirting! I genuinely hate everyone. Not everything is about you.”

“Hah!” she cackles. “It was a joke, you raving lunatic.”

“Fuck you.”

“All day, all night.”

“Maybe I should throw myself overboard. Then I won’t have to listen to your shit anymore.”

She scoffs. “You don’t have the balls. Besides, the kids, Nepeta, and Kanaya would kill me if I let you do that.” Karkat shoots her a look. Is she deranged? She glances with her eyes and smirks. “You never know who might miss you,” she sing-songs. Under her breath, she says, “If I had half as many people worried about my well-being…” and laughs quietly.

He decides to keep his mouth shut for the entire trip.

* * *

 

“Get out,” Vriska orders. She was late waking up this morning, Gamzee insisted on coming with Karkat, Karkat insisted on coming with her, just to pick up Kanaya from the rendezvous island. She rolled her eyes then, and she’s rolling her eyes now. “Just keep an eye out for her. I had to park somewhere different than my normal spot.” The dock managers will pay for that, she decides.

They get out of the boat silently, surprisingly. Usually Gamzee is babbling his head off and Karkat is trying to ignore him. Today is different. It’s most likely nothing more than submission on Gamzee’s part. Which is still weird.

They return half an hour later with Kanaya in tow. Rather, a three-headed troll comes slogging down the icy path.

“What is that?” she asks, trying not to laugh. She looks like Eridan with that cape. She’s about to say that when Kanaya speaks.

“If you say I look like Eridan, I use your boat for firewood.”

Vriska puts her hands up in defeat. She probably wouldn’t, but her voice implied that she didn’t care if it was an important mode of transportation or not.

Meanwhile, Karkat yells at Gamzee, “Would you stop about the miracles?! Everything’s a miracle, alright?”

“Geez, Karkat, let him have his miracles every once in a while! Are you black for him or something?” Vriska teases. She knows he isn’t, she just loves poking fun at his hatred towards everyone.

Karkat’s reaction: holding up his middle finger.

Vriska’s response: taking her own middle finger and putting it in her other hand, which is O-shaped.

“This is borderline adultery. Don’t you have a kismesis already? Eridan will think you’re cheating on him.” He’s surprisingly calm today.

“This isn’t cheating, it’s _teasing_. There’s a difference. Now get in the boat before I leave you behind.” Her eye had twitched when he said that. “Kanaya, you can sit next to me.” She needs someone to calm her down, and she hasn’t seen Kanaya in days.

“Only if I can get the cape thing,” Karkat says. Vriska chuckles at the request. It’s so stupid-looking. It also suits him just fine.

“Sure,” Kanaya says. She takes off the cape and puts it on Karkat. He turns away immediately after and heads to the stern, Gamzee close behind. What was that all about?

From behind, Kanaya gives Vriska a hug around her waist. It makes her jump, but she doesn’t reject it.

“I missed you,” Kanaya says.

Vriska smiles. She starts the boat and steers it out of the harbor, pushing away all thoughts of infidelity.

* * *

 

Karkat wrapped himself tightly with the cape thing. It’s hideous, but it keeps him warm so he guesses it’s okay. Something pokes his side. It’s not Gamzee. He reaches into the pocket and takes out a small piece of thick paper. There’s nothing written on it, so he flips it over.

Dear sweet fuck, the humans are doing selfies, too.

He gets up, still wrapped and holding the photo, and walks towards Kanaya. She’s being pale with Vriska, but he barges in anyway. “Hey Kanaya, this was in the pocket.” He hands it to her.

As soon as it registers, her eyes widen. Vriska busts out in raucous laughter. “You’ve never looked better!”

“I-I don’t…” Kanaya flushes a deep green, embarrassed. “Typical,” she mutters, putting her head in her hand. “They _would_ do this to me.”

“I’m going to make eight copies,” Vriska says, tugging the photo out from between Kanaya’s fingers.

“Oh, no you don’t!” Karkat blurts, snatching the photo from Vriska.

Vriska’s expression turns dark. “I was kidding. I wouldn’t do that to my own moirail. Geez, Karkat!” She rolls her eyes and puts both hands back on the steering wheel.

He swallows uncomfortably. “I knew that,” he mutters. “What should I do with it?”

“Keep it,” Kanaya answers, looking up at him expressionlessly. She sighs deeply and looks right through him, straight ahead. He grits his teeth and returns to the front of the boat. His knuckles are nearly stiff from the cold.

* * *

 

“Horuss, quick! Take off your clothes!” Meenah says in a rushed tone. She had barged into the boys’ block not a second sooner. She needs him, and she needs him now. Before Vriska gets back.

“What?!” he cries. “I’m not comfortable with that request, even if you are royalty…” Always with the “royalty” crap. They’re not in Alternia anymore.

She hits him upside the head. “If you don’t, then Latula will be down in the basement another night.” She’s been in there too long. Meenah is pretty sure Vriska forgot Latula was even down there. Meenah puts her hands on his shoulders. “Please? I’m fryin’ here!”

“Well!” he manages, squirming out of her grip. “I’ll only break the door.”

“That’s the whole point?” What else would she need _Horuss_ for? She would never ask for his help if she didn’t want him to do something extreme and unnecessary? Their captain can’t learn any other way.

“If you are bent on living, then I think you should go to someone else. I know I am.” He scurries away.

Dejected and out of hope, Meenah slinks down to her knees.

“Hey, Meen, how’s it—” Cronus says, putting a hand on her shoulder.

She swats his hand away. “Not now, Cronus.” Wait a minute. She scrambles to her feet. “I know who to ask!” She turns to Cronus. “Move!”

He puts his hands up and steps to the side. “Just tryin’a kelp,” he mutters.

She rushes to the girl trolls’ room and finds the person she needs.

“I knew you’d find me eventually,” Aranea says, sitting pretty on the ground next to her hammock with her smug face, which is basically her normal face because she supposedly knows what everyone is thinking before they even talk to her. Meenah thinks it’s all a bunch of sharkshit, though.

“What should we do about… her?” she asks carefully. Of course, she meant Latula. She wanted to avoid Vriska as much as possible. She just hopes that Aranea would understand what “her” meant. She’s Vriska’s ingénue, after all. Don’t piss off the favorite.

Aranea puts a finger on her chin thoughtfully. “Well, someone should break her out of the basement, that’s for sure.”

“But how?”

“She left me the keys.” Aranea smiles and holds up a ring with eight keys on it. Of course she would be given a spare set! Meenah stares at them desperately, but shakes her head roughly and narrows her eyes.

“What’s in it for you?” Meenah asks, crossing her arms.

Aranea just shrugs.

Meenah walks toward her warily. “You’d betta not be pullin’ my fins.”

Aranea shakes her head with closed eyes. She gets up and meets Meenah’s gaze, as if peering into her very soul. “I just want us to be friends,” she says meekly.

Meenah blinks. Spider troll say what now?

“I’ve always looked up to my ancestor, and ever since we were taken from the caves, everyone has ditched me and thought I was the captain’s pet. I just want us all to be friends again.”

“You’d betray yo’ ancestor for that?” Meenah asks incredulously, raising an eyebrow.

“I’d rather have friends than a volatile mentor.”

Whale, that more than answers that question. “Fine. I’ll be ya friend.”

Aranea smiles so wide, Meenah can’t tell if it’s genuine happiness or just plain conniving.

And before she knew it, she was standing in front of the basement door, keys in hand. “Latula!” She bangs on the door. “I got the keys! I’m breakin’ ya out!”

She hears someone coming up the steps. “Meenah! You’re gonna get in trouble!”

“I don’t give a flyin’ fish! Now hang on, I gotta find the key.” She fumbles for what seams like forever, checking literally every single key before she finds the right one. It unlocks easily and she unhooks the lock from the door. It’s a lot heavier than it looks. The door creaks open easily. Meenah pushes it open further and Latula comes out. Meenah gives her a light hug and pulls the door back closed. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just glad to see someone besides the mother grub,” Latula answers gratefully. “Is Mituna alright?”

“He’s good. Kurloz was goin’ nuts, so he asked me to help break y’out.”

Latula raises her eyebrows, amused. “In those words?”

“No, but he implied it.”

Both girls take off, giggling like the children they are.

* * *

 

When Kanaya lays eyes on the basement door for the first time in three days, she is not happy with what she sees. Why was there a lock on the door? Not just any type of lock, but a heavy padlock. She did not sanction this. It isn’t necessary for a mother grub to feel trapped.

“Vriska, what is the meaning of this?” she asks her moirail.

“A lock,” she answers flatly. Kanaya turns to Vriska and crosses her arms.

“A lock? Mother grubs don’t need locks. Have you even been down there lately?”

“No. Should I?”

Kanaya pinches the bridge of her nose. “She grows fast. She can’t fit through the door anymore.” Realization hits. “What were you keeping down here?” She pauses. “ _Who_ were you keeping down here? Is this another one of your _lususing tactics_?!” She tosses her arm towards the basement door.

“Kanaya, you’re overreacting!” Vriska interjects. “Mother grubs don’t even eat trolls!”

“That is _not_ the point! You can’t just do that to people anymore!”

“Says who?”

“Says me.” She’s seen the ways of Earth, and they are a whole lot gentler than even lusi.

“Fine.” Vriska turns away. “You raise them how you want. Don’t blame me if they run off because you weren’t strict enough.” She turns, grabbing her coat and storming out of the kitchen.

“There is a difference between being strict and being downright… mean!” No answer. Kanaya face-palms. The door was unlocked when she arrived, and Vriska seemed surprised to see it, too. Realization hits again and Kanaya runs after Vriska.

As soon as she enters the main hallway, she hears yelling.

“Vriska!” she calls. The yelling stops.

“What?!” she calls from over the rails of the stairs to the second floor. “I haven’t even done anything!”

“Are you going to be alright?”

“I’ll manage,” she mutters in a bitter tone. “I won’t do it anymore, I can promise you that.”

Kanaya just isn’t sure anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song title brought to you by: Taylor [expletive] Swift


	19. Like Satellites, We Go In Circles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a little shorter than usual, but I'll make it up to you in the next chapter: THE INTERMISSION #DOS!

After what seemed like forever, the snow finally began to melt, and the weather was less cold. The kids were sad that it wasn’t snowing anymore, but the adults decided that they had had enough.

Kanaya had been called to the Stri-Londe residence many more times, and once or twice neither of them had returned until the next morning. No more did they leave her “gifts” in her jacket pocket. It was either a one-time incident, or they were becoming more discreet.

To Kanaya, Karkat was more or less the same. The only time they would speak was when they needed to go ashore to buy supplies. Even then, the conversation was short and to the point.

Vriska’s shenanigans had downplayed to an absolute minimum. She maybe had one once every couple of weeks. It is still very strange, mainly because she had settled them elsewhere or with Eridan over a game of cards. The possibility for infidelity would be a blessing compared to being ignored altogether.

All of a sudden, on a routine visit to the rendezvous island to check their phone messages at a local small business, Kanaya gets a message that she did not want to hear.

“I’m sorry, Kanaya.” Roxy’s voice sounded grave. “We have to call you in again. This time, Dave is really sick and I have to take him to the hospital while Dirk is at work. Please get here soon! Rose is with the nice man next door in the white house.” House means hive, Kanaya reasoned this months ago. “Anyway, get here as soon as you can! Bye!”

“My, that’s worrisome,” Kanaya mutters. She hangs up and nods to the owner.

“What?” Karkat asks.

“Dave is sick,” she relays. “I have to go back to the mainland.”

Karkat doesn’t even glance at the schedule board. “The last ferry of the day is in a few minutes. Better go then.” His tone was disparaging at best. “I’ll tell Vriska to leave you behind, then.” At that, he turns and leaves, walking into the setting sun.

“What was that all about?” Kanaya mumbles to herself.

* * *

“So why am I taking romantic advice from you again?” Karkat asks, frowning. Eridan sits across the table from him, sipping coffee. An odorous swill that stays in Karkat’s sinuses for hours. Vriska had won some in a gamble, and Eridan immediately grabbed the thing and got “wery” high and mighty about the stuff.

“It’s ‘cus I haweh three o’ my quadrants filled, and you don’t,” he answers in an overbearingly pretentious way. Karkat rolls his eyes. It’s not like his advice is actually working. It seemed more like Karkat was pushing her away instead of… He just wants to talk normally with her, is that such a bad idea?

“Look, I’m going to say this in a way you will understand.” Karkat slams his palms on the table and stands up. “I don’t give a ‘carp’ about the things that have failed in the old romcoms, because that’s all I’m getting from you! I just want something that will make her fucking notice me!”

“Don’t need to trout,” Eridan sneers.

“You need to work on your fish puns. No, wait, you need to stop. That one wasn’t even close anyway. They’ve been terrible since we landed, and if you keep using them, you’re going to make ‘anemone’ out of yourself.”

“You’re off your game, Kar.” He puts the mug down. “Now sit down and let me tell you a thing.”

“You’re giving _me_ orders? I sure am up to my ears in stupidity today.” He turns to leave, then says, “If you need me, I’ll be in my block, writing you better one-liners.”

“I missed when we were actually fronds, believe it or not!”

“That was before we got here, idiot!” Karkat shouts backward to Eridan. He rounds the corner where it opens up to the entry space and sees Feferi, staring at him from across the way on the shittiest, most comfortable armchair in the whole damn hive. It looks like she was sewing, but stopped when he walked in. _Fuck_ , did she hear him say that? Feferi’s been sensitive about the topic since they landed… has it been four whole seasons now? According to Kanaya and Vriska, every four seasons is a year. It’s almost been a year. And so far, not a day goes by when Karkat _doesn’t_ think “this planet is weird”.

Karkat awkwardly stares back at her for a few seconds. He face-palms and mutters an apology as he rushes past her, her eyes following him until he couldn’t see her anymore. Great, now his stupid, angry comment to Eridan is going to have lasting effects, whatever they were. He’s been so careful not to mention it, but sometimes it just slips out. His past self is more of a raging fuckwit than Eridan sometimes. Why does Feferi even like him? She must have her reasons. Karkat shoves his hands in his pockets and trudges out the door.

* * *

 

“Nepeta spies the purr-edator trying to sneak up on her in her own territory,” Nepeta mumbles. She’s in a tree, crouching to peer at the red-blooded intruder. He’s back.

He curses to himself as he stumbles along the path to the memorial stones. It doesn’t even look like he notices her in the tree at all. Karkat is not known for his prowess in the field.

“Purr-haps he is not purr-edator, but prey,”  she whispers. She holds still as he crosses the trail below, trying not to rustle any leaves from their places. Not that there are many left anyway, since the winter blew them all off. He gets far enough away and she shifts to climb down.

A few minutes later, they arrive. Karkat sits down in front of Terezi, crossing his legs, and Nepeta hides behind a thick tree. The snow made it hard for her to travel silently, so she’d been reserved to just the trees. A part of her is glad it’s gone, but another part wants him to notice it and actually talk to her about things.

“Hey, K—”

“Hey Terezi,” Karkat says out loud at the same time she calls for him. Nepeta keeps silent. “It’s me. Karkat. You know it’s me, though, right? God, what am I even doing here?” He groans ruffles his hair. “I know you can’t hear me, but I just wanted to say—or ask or whatever—something. Tell you something? Shit, I should have practiced this…” He bends at his waist lowly, putting his hands on his thighs, and stays there for a while. For the longest time, she contemplated going over there and asking him, but that’s way too rude. Still bent over, he finally says, “I’ve been ignoring you, and I’m sorry. You’re always still so prominent in my thinkpan, but ever since this one time I went into town, it wasn’t a good prominent. I’ve always said my past self was a jackass, which was true no matter how much you denied it to my face, but this time it’s not my past self that’s been—” he chokes on his own words, “It’s always the present me! And present me is terrible! Past me is saintly compared to present me. I can’t blame my mistakes on how much of an idiot I was in the past anymore, because past me was present me at one point, and at the time, they were the same. Got me fucking rambling now.” He pauses. “Present me can’t think about you without guilt now.” Guilt? What is he talking about? “It probably started the day you died, but not to this extreme.” He sniffles. “What kills me is that I just can’t pinpoint where or why. I—”

Snap! A trap goes off next to her. A squirrel activated her rabbit trap. She’d been so quiet, an animal came up to her. Unfortunately, it also revealed her location. “No!” Nepeta mutters, face-palming.

“What the—!” He whips around and sees her. He scrambles up and demands, “What the hell are you doing here?!”

“Nothing,” she says quietly. “Nepeta could leave, if you want.”

“No need,” he says gruffly. “I’m not in the mood anymore.” He gets up and stalks off in another direction.

“Karkat!” she calls. He doesn’t stop. “I know how it feels! When someone you are close to dies…” He pauses. “I talk to all three of them all the time, you know. Even though I didn’t know Terezi, I still talk to her—”

“What the fuck do you know about Terezi?!” He turns suddenly and storms at Nepeta. “You have no right to—”

“Maybe not!” she shouts. He doesn’t stop until he gets up close. He grabs her collar and she gasps. “But that doesn’t make you right to believe you are the only purrson suffuring!” She can’t help the tears that follow. “We’re not on Alternia anymore, and we don’t have the pleasure of killing each other when we feel like shit!”

He raises his hand and face-palms. Nepeta’s reflexes protect her face anyway. Then, her palm feels something small fall in it. The wind blows it cold, alluding her to think that he might be crying. She opens her eyes a slit and sees just that. His blood color still shocks her sometimes.

“Does Karkat need to talk about it?” she says after a few moments.

“No, Karkat doesn’t,” he breathes. “Not yet.”

“It doesn’t have to be now, or even Nepeta,” she tells him as soothingly as she can. “It’s not good to keep it cooped up.” His grips falters and she slips out, holding his arms for balance. “That’s why Nepeta talks to them. It helps to know that someone might be listening.” She turns away and starts to leave.

“Thanks.”

She turns, unsure of what he just said. “What?”

“Nothing! Go away!” He plops himself down in front of the stones again.

“Okay.” She smiles and takes off, keeping her distance. From what she’s learned about him over the past months, he needs his space.  And time.

* * *

 

“Karkat.”

Karkat jolts awake, an annoyed Sollux standing over him. He must have fallen asleep in front of the memorial stones again, and Nepeta must have carried him back and put him on the sofa in the entry room. How humiliatingly selfless of her. At least he is comfortable. “What do you want?”

“To move.”

“You have feet, don’t you?”

“No, away.”

“Away?”

“Move away.”

“Why the fuck do you want to move away?” he snarls. “You know Aradia can’t exactly leave without being in excruciating pain for weeks, right?”

“I know.”

“Then why? Didn’t you tell me sweeps ago that you can’t stand being away from away from her?”

“I’m taking her with me.”

Karkat frowns. Before he speaks, Sollux interrupts.

“And before you go on about that, I have it all taken care of.”

“How?”

“Like I’m telling you jack shit.”

“Are you even worried about her horns being a major distraction?”

“Fine. We’re going to Portland.”

“Where the fuck is Portland?”

“Earth.”

“Your sass disgusts me.”

“Anyway, Aradia wanted me to tell you that you could come along if you want.”

“Why?” He and Aradia didn’t really have a past. Not really. She and Terezi were pretty close, though. Before this whole thing started, he’s talked to her maybe once. After she woke up from the coma, maybe three times.

“I don’t know. But whatever.” He doesn’t sound like he’s too fond the idea. “It’th not like I hate you. Do what you want.”

Karkat sighs and closes his eyes again. Things are getting complicated here, anyway. He needs time to think. The guilt is overwhelming sometimes. Ever since he was six, he’s only thought about being with one other troll, and he always will be, even if she died. But now that she has, when moving on actually seemed possible, someone else enters that territory. It didn’t seem possible, and he hates himself for it.

“Alright. When do we leave?”

* * *

 

“Thank you so much, Kanaya!” Roxy exasperates. “You’ve been a saint for the past two days!”

“It’s not a problem,” Kanaya says. Apparently, Dave had eaten a leaf outside, which turned out to be a thin piece of discolored bark. They kept him at the hospital a few days, but he just “got the runs” as Dirk so eloquently put it.

At noon, she accepts her payment and a free cab ride from Roxy’s acquaintance who just happens to be a cab driver. He makes for a good conversation partner. He drops her off at the wharf right on schedule and she makes it home in time for dinner.

“Karkat, I’m home!” she calls when she opens the front doors. Latula and Mituna and playing with scaled four-wheeled devices on the floor by the fireplace. They look at her for a moment before returning to their activities. Other than that, the house is silent. “Where’s Karkat?”

“With Sollux and Aradia,” Latula answers without looking up.

“Where are they?”

“Port Land!” Mituna says enthusiastically.

Kanaya balks. “Portland?” She frowns slightly. “Where’s Portland?”

Latula shrugs. “I think they said it was in Origami.”

“Yeah. Latula watch me vroom! Vroom! Vroom vrooooommm!” He feigns an explosion while colliding with Latula’s plastic vehicle.

When did this happen? And why didn’t he tell her? Was it something she said? Something she did? Was it because she left him the other day to take care of Rose? She was needed, so he should have understood that. “Thank you.”

They don’t respond right away, so she turns to the stairs and climbs them slowly, stroking the railing as she ascends. It’s only the early evening, but she feels so tired. She even got some sleep, Rose clinging to her person notwithstanding. She finally gets to her block and climbs in between the sheets on her thinning mattress. Only a few seconds pass without a thought through her thinkpan before the exhaustion overwhelms her and she falls asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's title brought to you by: Manufactured Superstars


	20. Intermission 2, Act 1: Wish You Were Here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter I told you about.  
> It contains the following triggers:  
> Past child abuse, self harm, brainwashing(?)
> 
> (Also includes cameos)
> 
> I just had the worst time writing this. It just makes me really sad.
> 
> And also before I forget: I would like to thank my friend Sam for beta reading this. God bless you, and thank you for tolerating me.

_“Are you tired of your cakes falling flat?_

_“Are your kids calling you a bad cook because you mixed up the sugar and the salt again? Too much flour? Not enough frosting?  
_

_“Are you frustrated by all the different ingredients, time, and effort that goes into baking?”_

Jake snores away on his extended stay hotel couch in his underwear. He left the TV on all night. An infomercial for Betty Crocker drones on at four in the morning.

_“Not anymore!_

_“With the Betty Crocker cake set, you can make your cake, decorate it, and eat it, too! All with speed and ease!_

_“Make a variety of shapes, designs, and smiles with everything you see here!”_

He snorts in his sleep. He rolls over towards the back of the couch, smacking his lips, and falls into snoring again.

_“Hello, I am Betty Crocker, the heart and soul of everything Betty Crocker! [giggle]_

_“I’m here to tell you all about my newest and most people-friendly product that I have ever dreamed up!_

_“Here to help me today is my daughter Jane, who has become quite the baker herself!_

_“Say hello, Jane.”_

_“Hello!”_

Startled, Jake yelps and falls off the couch.

_“During this very special infomercial, we’re going to teach you the tricks and trades of my business, and not to mention some secret recipe ideas!”  
“So stay tuned!”_

Jake crawls closer to the TV, the last frame of his perfectly made-up face of his sister now burned into his mind. Even for TV, that was too much makeup.

“Jane?” he mutters. “What happened to you?”

Suddenly, quick rapping on his door startles him again. He gets up, still staring at the TV.

“Who is it?” he asks, peering through the eyehole. It’s the guy who checked him in. What’s he called again?

“Hey, someone paid me fifty bucks to hand-deliver this tape to you, so open the damn door,” he demanded.

“What if I’m still in my tidies? Can I put on some pants?”

“I don’t give a fuck, nookstain, just open up so I can get back to work.”

Jake scoffs. “Fine!” He opens the door. “Geez, buster, whatever happened to being courteous?”

“Just take it.” The short guy slightly older than Jake thrusts the tape at him. “If there’s money missing from the register downstairs, it’s going on _your_ tab, asshat.” He turns and stalks off, mumbling, “Four in goddamn morning…”

Jake looks at the tape. The case is blank, but the tape inside is _Raiders of the Lost Ark_. Why would someone send him this? How did they even know he was here? What movies he liked? A label on the inside said, “watch m-e”.

He turns to the TV, still blaring the infomercial. Jane looked nervous, but she was decorating the cake like a pro. She looked into the camera, then in cut to their mother.

He could have sworn her eyes were red.

But as much as he cares for Janey, he couldn’t stand to see his mother’s face anymore, so he pops the tape into the VHS player.

_An empty chair stands in the middle of a room. Across the bottom of the screen reads:_

_—Light Test—Jane Crocker_

_“So I just go?” Jane’s voice._

_“Go ahead.” Not familiar._

_“Okay.” She stepped into the frame and sat on the chair._

_“Anytime.”_

_“Just say anything?” She asks. A pause. She nodded and looked into the lens. “Hello, my name is Jane Crocker, the daughter of Betty Crocker! I would like to tell you all about a new product, the_ Easy Crocker Cake Set _. It has all the amenities you will ever need to nake cakes the Betty Crocker style—” Her eyes follow something off-screen, behind the camera, and paused her spiel._

_A thin woman with flowing black hair wearing loud heels blocked the frame and slapped Jane across her face. She cried out in response. Jake winces._

_“How could you fuck that up?” The woman._

_“Ma’am, it’s only the light test.” The unfamiliar voice. He must be the director. “Adjust lighting.”_

_The woman turns, her eyes cut off by the top of the screen. “We were up all night practicing this! She knows better. Take two!” She walked off._

_Hesitation, then mumbling. Jane rubbed her cheek, which had turned red._

_“Alright Jane, try again. Relax, I won’t bite.”_

_She did. She repeated the whole speech perfectly._

_“Perfect.” He barked more orders to the light guys._

_“Jane, honey, that frown makes you uglier. Smile!” Mother again._

_Jane complied._

_Awkward silence._

_“Take three.”_

_Perfect lines, perfect smile._

_“Stop looking down so often!” Heels clacked on the floor. “No one wants to see the top of your head!” At that last word, she had yanked Jane’s head by grabbing a fistful of hair. “If you wanted people to see the top of your head, you’d be on your knees for a living,” she whispered distinctly, bending down._

_“Ma’am, if you’re going to keep interrupting, I’m going to at least stop recording.”_

_She turned and looked into the lens. “Don’t touch that camera! I need her to see her mistakes.” She wasn’t talking about Jane just then. She steps out again._

_“Take four!”_

_Perfect speech, perfect smile, eye contact._

_“Cease your condescending tone!” This time, Jane is hit hard enough to stumble out of the chair._  
 _“I’m sorry mother!” Jane replied tearfully. “I’m sorry!”_

_“Ma’am, this is highly inappropriate! Everyone, come back tomorrow! We’re done for the day.” Good job, director._

_“She’s eighteen, she can quit when she wants. And if you lay a finger on that telephone, I will withdraw my donation to this rinky-dink studio and leave you to the wolves! Do I make myself clear?!”_

_“Crystal,” the director said hesitantly. It sounded like gritted teeth. “Take five, then we’re done.” More orders to the light guys._

_Perfect speech, perfect smile, eye contact, chipper._

_Blue screen._

_Sinister smile, close-up._ _Mother.  
_

_“Hello, Jake, this is your mother.”_ She’s sitting in her red office. _“Despite what you might think, I know exactly where you are in the extended stay.”_

“How the fu—”

_“And I won’t be coming for you.”_

“Say again?”

_“You heard right. You’ll be comin’ back to us instead.”_

“The heck I will!”

_“Oh, you will. Poor Jane. She’ll be all by hershellf. With me. Forever. And it’s all your fault.”_

“What’s all my fault?”

_“You may be thinking why. I’ve always given you both this kind of tough love.”_

Jake’s hand goes to his chest, where there’s a faded scar after he accidentally…

_“When it was just you two, punishments were equally distributed. But since the outlets have dwindled… Well, you get it.”_

“No.”

_“Oh, yes.”_

“Fuck…”

_“Shell yes!”_

He is about to punch the television, but she says something else.

_“Oh, and before you destroy the screen, Jane is not your sister.”_

He pauses. “What.”

_“I adopted you when you were infants. Jane is from a small town nearby, while you were from a_ _small town I traveled to once. Barcelona, I believe. You were so pathetic looking, crawling in a dirty alley. No one had claimed you, so I took pity on you and brought you here.”_

“You should have just left me there.”

_“You can say I was inspired and wanted another. I found little Jane sleeping like a perfect angel in an abandoned, sweltering vehicle. By pure chance she looked exactly like you. Whale, except when she opened her eyes.”_

Jake wasn’t sure whether to feel angrier at his mother, or Jane’s real parents more.

_“So I’m going to offer you a deal you can’t refuse.”_

“I’m not going to take it!”

_“I know that the day you and she turned a certain age, you’ve been, let’s say…”_ She put up her fingers to use air quotes. _“ ‘Filling buckets’ by yourself at night.”_

His face got really hot. She _knew_. He gulps.

_“Apparently, with your species, it’s taboo. But not with mine.”_

Wait, what?

_“And through extensive research, I discovered that royalty often consummated with blood relatives as a way to keep the bloodline pure. With our similarities in mind, here’s my deal: Return to the headquarters by the end of the week and she’s all yours. The only catch is that you can never leave again.”_

“And if I don’t?”

_“And if you don’t, I’ll cull her. Eventually.”_ She gave a wave with her fingers. _“Farewell!”_

Indiana Jones runs through a tunnel with a boulder rolling after him.

Jake shoves the TV to the side and it crashes to ground, the box shattering into pieces. Shit.

“If I ever get my hands on that woman, I’m going to melt her fucking face off!” He quickly gets dressed and packs his things. He probably won’t tell the guy at the front desk about the television.

He doesn’t think twice. Before he had even gone on this adventure the day he turned eighteen, his freedom was the most important thing to him. Now, the only thing he can think of is being with Jane. He was finally free to hold her, to kiss her, but at the cost of everything else. It wasn’t freedom to explore the world, but…

None of that other stuff matters anymore.

She is worth every second he will miss.

He has to hurry, it’s already Friday morning.

* * *

 

Some summer vacation this is. Locked up. Again. For the past three months, she hasn’t left her room. Usually Jane would be wandering the vast property that is Crocker Corporation Headquarters at this hour, but her mother has bolted the door shut. It’s been this way since…

Jake…

She hates him so much right now. He just had to choose the day they turned eighteen to turn tail and scat. What a coward. A coward that had more sense than she did. He had spoken about leaving before, but she had talked him out of it. Or so she thought. Now, he’s gone.

It was all a lie. He lied. He _lied_ to her. To _her!_ It made her think; how many other times had he done it? How many?! Did she even matter to him anymore? Didn’t he love her? Weren’t they family? Certain feelings had welled up in her that she never told him. Maybe if she would have said something, he wouldn’t have left… Or maybe he would have ignored her.

She sighs, pulling up her T-shirt. Various bruises and cuts of different stages of healing scatter her torso and thighs. The cuts were self-inflicted, but the bruises were not. She runs her fingers over the bruise she received this morning, which has already faded to a dull yellow. At least she heals quickly. She puts her shirt back down. The swelling from that slap the other day went down after an hour, but she put her hand up to the spot out of habit.

This is all _his_ fault. All of it. The humiliation on national television, the lockdown, her feelings…

She snuck into her mother’s room once when they were younger, playing hide and seek with Jake. On the dresser was a collection of photos, all of Jake and Jane as babies. It wasn’t weird when she didn’t see either of them as newborns. She was told that they were adopted together a couple months after they were born. But her nine-year old self still felt that something was off. Eventually, she got bored of waiting for Jake and absconded somewhere else.

Four years later, at age thirteen, she read in a book that babies looked like their fathers when they were born. There were pictures and everything, and it seemed legit. She looked for pictures of the two of them as babies. If that book was true, then they should look exactly alike.

But they didn’t. She compared the photos, spreading them all over the floor. She looked a whole lot smaller than him in all of the pictures. Maybe it was because she was a girl and he was a boy, but she’s taller than Jake, so it doesn’t make sense that he was bigger when they were—

“Janey!” Jake shrieked. She jumped, nearly dropping the frame in her hand. “We’re not supposed to be in here!”

“Jake, you scared the pants off me!” she tried to whisper.

“You never wear pants.”

“Stop being stupid, you know what I mean!” She shows him the pictures. “Look at this, we look nothing alike!”

“Gee, that’s weird.”

“It’s more than weird, it’s suspicious! It needs to be investigated.”

“It needs to be put back! Mom locked me up in my room for a week with only water for coming in here once!”

“I thought that was because you broke her trident by accident.”

“No, that one was when she cut me.”

“She cut you?!”

“Yeah, see?” He lifted his shirt to reveal a recent scar of an “X” shape on his chest.

Jane stared at it, her eyes wide. She had never physically harmed either of them before, only groundings and keeping food from them. Tears welled up and she agreed to put the rest of the frames back. He put his shirt back down.

“It’s okay Janey,” he said, obviously trying not to freak out. He reached out to hug her when they heard approaching footfalls in the hallway.

They had never run so fast in their lives.

For the next three years, she saw everything as suspicious. Their absent stepfather was even more absent and their mother was taking how he treated her out on Jane and Jake. For a while, Jane even felt sorry for her mother.

But then, a month before their sixteenth birthday, their father died suddenly. Jane suspected the worst, but she couldn’t collect any more evidence on the matter because she was once again detained to her room. What she _did_ know was that he practically lived downstairs at the factory. Mother never talked about him and Jane never asked. Every time he was mentioned at dinnertimes, her mother had a dark expression. It gave Jane the chills. And after their birthday had passed, Betty Crocker had officially gone over the deep end. Jane’s baking training increased, the punishments stopped for a while, and some workers even were fired. Things were actually better for a while.

But when Jake left three months ago, everything changed. Past practices came back with a vengeance, and Jane was allowed to be on TV. It was a direct attack on Jane’s loyalty to her brother. Being constantly by her mother’s side had taken its toll physically and mentally.

She curls into a ball on her bed, clutching a frightening beast pillow, burrowing her face into it. She lays on her ridiculously sized bed and pile of pillows, nearly buried completely in them, perfect for muffling her crying. A thought comes to her mind: What if she had talked to him about it more? Or worse, what if she had scared him off by complaining too much? He was sick of her. That’s why he—

_Shoop!_ Her window opens up. She freezes, holding her breath. She snakes her hand under her main pillow and wraps her fingers around the handle of her secret weapon, her forkkind. It was made of various parts a friend smuggled in from the factory downstairs. She made it just in case.

“Jane! Janey! You awake?” Jake’s voice. It can’t be…

She sniffles involuntarily. “Jake?” She lifts her head and cranes her neck towards the window, still firmly gripping the weapon.

“Yeah,” he breathes. “Ow!” She can barely make out his stumbling in the dim light from her red-orange lamp. He approaches the bed. She wipes her eyes to see better.

She can see him giving her a relieved smile. But why? Did he think she were dead or something?

“You’re okay,” he says, reaching forward and stroking her cheek.

She shies away. “Don’t, please…”

“Everything’s going to fine and dandy.” He shushes her, putting his index finger on her lip.

“No. It’s not.” She shakes her head, getting angry. “It’s not, you fucking dumbass!” She grabs his shirt collar and pulls out her forkkind at the same time. The sharpened prongs glint against his jugular as she glares into his very soul.

* * *

 

Well, that escalated fast. Where did she get such a cool weapon? Wait, that’s not the point! Why is she attacking?

“Jane, what’s—”

“You left me!” she shouts. Then, more quietly, “You fucking left me. Alone.” Her face is pained, teeth bared and eyebrows scrunched together. She barely squeaks out, “With _her_ …”

He swallows carefully. What can he say besides… “I’m sorry.”

She lowers her weapon, bowing her head and submitting to uncontrolled sobs. “I hate you,” she mutters over and over.

A hug. He should hug her. He carefully wraps his arms around her. He feels the impact of the weapon drop on the bed behind him as he embraces her, holding her head to his chest. She continues to cry against him.

“Why did you leave me alone?” She hits his torso in frustration.

“I’m a fickle idiot,” he replies. “Geez, if I had known, I…”

“I told you every day how much I hate it here.”

Damn it, she did! “I’m a full-fledged moron.” He rubs the back of her head, flattening her hair. If he’s going to tell her, it has to be now. But how?

She wraps her arms around his back, returning his embrace.

Now, man. Do it. Do the thing. He trails her jawline from the back of her head with his fingers and lifts her chin towards his face. Her baby blues are barely open as he leans down and softly kisses her top lip.

She gasps and shoves him away, blushing madly and flattening herself against her headboard. “What are you doing?!” she says in a hushed tone.

“Uh…” His mind is blank. He blurts out the first thing that comes to mind. “Kissing?”

“B-bu-but but,” she stammers. “We’re re-re-rela—”

“No, we’re not.” He scoots closer. “You were right, Janey. Back then, when we were kids, when you saw those pictures. We’re not related!”

She looks deep in thought. “How…?”

He sighs. “Mother sent me a tape confessing everything. I was found somewhere in Spain, and you were apparently abandoned in a hot car.”

* * *

 

She stares at the embroidered covers of her bed. Is it true? She had a feeling in her gut for a while now, but this was perhaps… _better_ than she expected.

“Come on, let’s go,” he says, grabbing her hand. “Get dressed, get your cool fork thing, and let’s get out of this shithole.”

She looks into his eyes. The look in his forest green eyes is as wild as the outside world. They fill her heart with hope. She smiles at him. “Alright.”

They escape out the way he came fairly easily. As they scale the outer walls in the only blind spot on the property, they don’t speak. The climb down the mountain is arduous, but she doesn’t complain. She feels good for once. Free. She feels that there’s nothing that can stop them now.

They get to a road and follow it to some nearby houses. He leads her to one and knocks on the door. A blonde man a few years older than them opens it.

“Hey,” Jake says.

“Hey again,” the man replies. She thinks she recognizes him, but she can’t be sure. Did he work at the factory? He glances behind him quickly.

“Is this a bad time?”

“Kind of. The kids are a little sick. Our AC broke and they get hot pretty easily. Then they cry and have to be coddled some more, which reminds me: it’s fuckin’ July.” He laughs.

Jake laughs awkwardly. “Yeah…”

“So did you get caught?” He eyes Jane.

“If I got caught, I’d probably still be in there.” He points up to the factory with his thumb. “I’ve been out three months, but she knew where I was all along.” He shrugs.

“Shit,” the mystery man mumbles, rubbing his temple. “Come in, it’s Roxy’s turn to make dinner tonight.” Did Jane hear that right? He cocks his head to look at her. “And you’re going to have to introduce me to your lady friend.”

“Oh yeah!” He waits until the blonde man closes and locks the door. The entire inside is messy with toys and books and VHS tapes. “Dirk, this is Jane.” He gestures to her. “Jane, this is my friend Dirk. He helped me get some cash a few months ago. His best friend has secret connections that got me an extended stay hotel. They also happen to have kids.”

“Okay,” Jane says. “Hello.” She reaches out to shake his hand and he grips it firmly. “Nice to meet you.”

“Same to you.” He smiles. “Let’s go to the kitchen, you two kids must be hungry.” He turns to the kitchen, where there is a blonde woman is stirring a pot of spaghetti and sauce. Jane gasps. She did hear him right earlier!

“Rox!”

The woman gasps as well, nearly dropping the spoon. “Is that my Janey?” She turns her head to the group of three and smiles widely.

“Oh my god!” Jane squeals.

They rush towards each other and hug. Jane is easily engulfed in her arms, backpack included.

“I thought I’d never see you again!”

“Same! You’ve grown up a little bit, young lady!” She leans in and whispers, “You taking care of that neat weapon I gave you?” She raises an eyebrow flirtatiously.

“It’s on my back,” Jane whispers back. “I’ve been practicing, but I haven’t been able to use it yet, thankfully.”

“Let’s hope you never will.” Roxy pats her shoulder. She announces, “Dinner’s almost ready! Dirk, I need help serving our guests. Also, the twins are getting anxious, they’ve been going nuts over the smell of the preservatives in this brand-name sauce.”

Jane peers behind Roxy and sees two platinum-haired toddlers in adjacent chairs at a plastic kid-size table, a boy and a girl. They’re so cute when they’re babbling  like they’re talking. The boy reaches over and pokes the girl. She ignores him. He keeps doing it. She keeps ignoring him. He gets frustrated, so he pulls her hair. She reaches over and pulls his hair. He starts to cry. She giggles.

“Oh Dave, not again!” Roxy coos. Jane tries not to laugh, but doesn’t interject. “I’m going to move you two because you apparently dislike like your sister so much that you keep crying!” She picks him up with grunt and walks him to the other side of the table. She turns back to Jane and asks, “You didn’t happen to see what they did?” Dirk suddenly appears behind Roxy and sets the table with two more bowls and forks. He meets Jane’s gaze and shakes his head. _Don’t tell her. They’re too cute to tattle on._

She shakes her head, pursing her lips. “Nope.” She suppresses a laugh. “They are so cute! Are they why you quit?”

“Yes,” she says somberly. “It’s actually a long story. Long and sad. But this is a good day, so I won’t tell it. You’re both here!” She smiles again.

They all settle down to eat a few minutes later. Roxy and Dirk finish early and start to feed the kids. Roxy and Dirk muse on and on Dave and Rose, how they’re only nineteen months old and already so independent. They walk on their own now, and even though they haven’t spoken yet, they still talk a _lot_ , especially to each other. Whatever their nanny is feeding them is doing wonders on their growth. While they weren’t looking, Jane reaches over to Jake below the table and grazes his hand. He took it, smiling without turning his head. Jane smiles to herself, too.

“Ugh, don’t they just make your teeth rot?” Dirk pipes up. Both brunettes snap their heads up, but they blondes still looking at the kids. They sigh with relief.

“I _know,_ ” Roxy responds. “They think we can’t see them canoodlin’ over there.” Jane wants to withdraw her hand, but Jake hangs on.

“Do you think they know we know?”

“Nah. ‘Sides, they’re not related so it’s all good.” How did Roxy know that?

“No shit?”

“No shit.”

“Shit!” a small voice says.

“Shit!” another small voice says.

“Oh em eff gee,” Roxy deadpans.

“ _Their first words,_ ” Dirk says dramatically.

“Double-you tee eff Dirk, I think we need to speak in acronyms from now on.”

“We should have gotten that on tape.”

“I _know._ ”

Both children start giggling simultaneously. They knew what they said.

Jane doesn’t know whether to laugh along with the four blondes or to just stare in shock. She looks over to Jake, who has put down his fork and suppressing his laughter. Jane just covers her mouth to hide her laughter.

* * *

 

“So, down to business,” Dirk says after he and Roxy put their children to bed.

“It doesn’t look like we can put you up in that same hotel in Portland, so here’s what we’re gonna do,” Roxy says, walking into the kitchen carrying a phonebook. She puts it on the table gently and opens it to a map of Seattle. “I know an old colleague who lives in the shit part of town. BC won’t be caught dead there, even in her own backyard, and she can’t die. So!” She rips the map out before slamming the book shut, and hands it to Dirk, who hands it to Jane.

“You two ready to go?” Dirk asks.

Jake feels his hand being lifted up. He looks to Jane, who is holding it up. “We’ve been ready for a while.”

“I’ll call you two a taxi in the morning. He should be free to take you straight there.” He then hands Jane some cash. “This should be enough until one of you gets a job.”

“Thank you,” Jake says. “Again.” He really does owe them a lot now. When they get far enough away from this debacle, he’s going to pay them back sevenfold.

“Anything for our friends,” Roxy tells him.

* * *

 

“So, we’re checking into this hotel as…?” Jane asks Jake the next morning. They had both taken showers since they were dirty from the hike, and she had just stepped out of the bathroom, drying her hair.

“Mr. and Mrs. English,” he replies proudly.

“W-why are we married?!” It’s not like Jane is completely opposed to the idea, but that seems like a little much! “Isn’t that a little much, don’t you think?” Although, transitioning from Crocker to English is a comforting change.

“The first rule of running away is the changing of identities. I don’t think people will believe us if we check in as brother and sister.”

Jane puts her hands on his shoulders and shakes them. “We’re too young to be married, though!”

“We’re eighteen, we can do what we want!”

“Like do the do?” Dirk says suddenly.

Jane jumps, forgetting that both he and Roxy were still there. Embarrassed, she looks down and her face and ears turn hot.

“English is our stepfather’s last name,” Jake reminds her after an awkward silence. She completely forgot about that. “I think that if she comes looking for us, she’ll shy away from everyone with the last name ‘English’. So it’s like double protection!” She slaps his arm for that, and he laughs like an old man.

“Taxi’s here,” Roxy says, looking out the front window. “He’s a good man, he’ll make sure you get there safely.”

“Thank you, Roxy.” Jane hugs her friend tightly, trying not to cry. “Promise we’ll meet again?”

“I promise,” she assures her. She gives Jane another squeeze before letting go.

“Don’t get caught again, you two,” Dirk warns. “I’d hate to not see you guys again.” He shakes their hands, first Jake’s then Jane’s.

“No promises,” Jake says with a double pistol and a wink in their general direction. Jane rolls her eyes and drags him out the door.

They get in the taxi and tell the driver where to go. When they look back out to the house, Dirk and Roxy are waving. Roxy looks as if she’s wiping away a tear. Jane smiles and they both wave back as the taxi drives away.

“Are you two married?” the driver asks. He genuinely sounds curious, so Jane answers honestly.

“No,” she says.

She can swear she sees him squinting his eyes at them in the rear-view mirror with a stern look. “If you promise that you two will be safe in doing what it is I think you’re doing, this ride will be cost-free.” _Oh my god_ , Jane thinks, embarrassed again. It’s not like he’s her father or anything! Why on earth would he care?

“Yes, sir!” Jake answers enthusiastically.

He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. “Alright,” he finally responds.

They finally arrive at the run-down hotel named “Miracle Suites”. It truly was a miracle the place isn’t falling apart completely. But there’s no graffiti on it, so it looks safer than any other building in the area. It has three stories and the neon sign reads, “Vacant”. The inside is surprisingly much nicer, almost ritzy. One can never tell a personality from the outside. They walk up to the front desk in the moderately sized lobby.

“Do you have a room open?” Jake asks the spacey receptionist.

“Hmmmmmmmyeeeeeah,” he pronounces slowly, turning his head behind to a box on the wall with three keys in it. He smiles when he looks at Jane, which creeps her out slightly.

“Hey, stop that,” Jake interrupts, narrowing his eyes. The receptionist then turns to Jake, still smiling. “How much for a week?” He sounds like he’s done this hundreds of times. Jane works on signing the check-in book open on the counter in her fanciest cursive.

“Forty dollars and uh…” He stops talking, spacing out.

“And?”

“Oh shit, sorry. Forty dollars for two people.”

“Thanks,” Jake sighs. Jane pulls out some of the cash Dirk gave them.

“Room three is on the third floor,” the receptionist says, taking the money and handing them the key with the number “3” on it. “Breakfast for anyone? The pie is fresh every day.”

“We’ll pass,” Jane says. Who eats pie for breakfast?

“Have a good stay!” he sings. He’s a bit creepy, but at least they will be the top floor, the farthest away from the lobby.

They step into the elevator together. As soon as the doors close, they reach for the other’s hands. It’s a clumsy fumble, so they laugh a little bit.

When they get to the top floor, they take some time to look out the window at the end of the hall. It’s partially blocked by the enormous sign, and all they can see beyond that is the sorry excuse for a parking lot.

“Let’s go,” Jake says.

Jane nods, allowing herself to be dragged along on his adventures. _Their_ adventures now. He opens the door to reveal a pleasant-feeling room with a king-sized bed, a smallish television, and a kitchenette. They both stare at the bed.

“I’ll sleep on the floor?” he suggests.

“We can share,” she says at the same time.

They both look at each other awkwardly before stepping closer. She can tell he’s just as nervous as he is when she looks into his eyes. “Golly, this turned out more awkward than I imagined,” he says suddenly. “I’m not as adept at this as I thought.”

“Hoo hoo! I think you’re doing okay.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. So what do we do now?”

“When it was just me, I kind of just stayed in, ordered out, and watched movies all day.” He shrugs, saying, “We could do that if you want?”

“Sounds like a date, Mr. English,” she says with a wide smile.

“Then it’ll be a date, Mrs.—”

“Stop.” She stops him, pushing him away with both hands. Heart beating fast, she scurries away, looking for the remote. “Where is that darned remote?” she mutters to herself.

“Over here.” She turns and sees that he looks dejected. _Great, I messed up_.

* * *

 

Jake, wondering what he did, turns on the television and sits down on the bed. What did he do this time? The default channel for the hotel plays a sort of whimsical musical tune that adds sounds that are similar to bicycle horns every few bars. He scrunches his eyebrows and glances at Jane, who’s making his same expression. She shrugs. He flips through the channels to get rid of the sounds and Jane joins him, sitting down on the bed.

After finishing off the last of the Saturday morning cartoons, Jake felt his stomach start to ache from hunger. They were fed breakfast at Dirk and Roxy’s but that was hours ago.

“Are you hungry, Jane?”

“I’m starving.”

“What do you want for…” He cranes back to look at the radio clock, which reads noon. “Lunch?”

“Uhm… Pizza. Is that too early?” She looks up at him with her big blue questioning eyes, so innocent. He wishes he had a handkerchief at the moment.

“It-it’s never too early for pizza!” he sputters, laughing awkwardly. “I’ll find the phonebook. I hear local pizza’s the best.” He gulps and suddenly, the brass knob on the dresser under the television is quite shiny and interesting.

“Should you look for it or should I?”

“Oh, sorry!” He gets up quickly, panning the room for a phonebook. He sees one on the nightstand and strides to it, cracking the thing open. He finds a number for a local joint around the corner and orders enough pizza and soda for the next few days. They’ll have to relinquish about forty more dollars, but it’s worth it.

“She must be going ballistic right about now,” Jane says, not turning away from the news. She’s talking about mother. He closes the phonebook. He sits next to her again and takes her hand, leaning his head back to look at the ceiling.

“Let her.” He sighs. It took her about three months to send that tape to him, but how long did it take to actually find him, film that lighting test and infomercial, get it approved, and on the broadcasts? For all he knew, she knew where he was the whole time. “Let’s not talk about her.”

She squeezes his hand. “Okay. I’m also sick of this guy’s face, let’s find a movie channel.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice!”

About forty-five minutes later, the food arrives and they go to town. They stay on the same movie channel the entire day, commenting on everything from the lack of blue ladies in modern movies to how bad sequels are nowadays. They laugh at the cacophony of colored outfits people thought looked good three years ago. They cry at the end of a movie about unrequited love. They intently watch a new animated movie about magic and love between a princess and a street-rat. Before they knew it, the sky had turned dark, and they put the pizza and soda away. At the end of the last movie, Jake turns off the television and they are right back where they started: at the edge of the bed sitting next to each other.

“What now?” he wonders aloud. He tries to think if there are any churches nearby. Maybe he could look in the phonebook again. If not churches, then the courthouse or something. He’s considering just going through with the whole thing if they’re going to be together like this now. One thing is for sure: he’s never going back to that house, deal or no deal.

Jane withdraws her hand and twiddles her fingers nervously. She looks back at that radio clock and Jake mirrors her. It’s nearly nine. “We could… sleep?”

“I’m not tired.”

She turns red. “I’m not either.”

“Then why do you want to?”

“I don’t know, I…” She shrugs, then looks into his eyes. “We could use the sleep.” She stifles a yawn behind her hand and stands up, bumping his arm with her elbow by accident. “Sorry…”

“No you’re right, we should get a good night’s sleep. I’ll just go ahead and ask for more blankets so I can sleep on the floor.” He gets up and brushes past her to get to the phone. What was that number for the lobby again? He’s dialing the default number on the rotary phone and feels his wrist being tugged backwards. He looks back to see Jane gripping it lightly. The concierge picks up, but Jake puts the phone back on the hook. “What is it?”

“You don’t have to sleep on the floor.” Their eyes meet . “The bed’s plenty big enough for two.”

* * *

 

She goes over to the other side of the bed and takes off her socks. He does the same and they crawl into the cool bed. “We forgot to turn off the light.”

“It’s alright, I…” He takes a breath. “I want to fall asleep to your face.”

She blushes for the millionth time that night and hides her face with both hands, smiling. “You’re just too much, Jake!”

He slides closer. “Can I hug you?”

“Remember what that taxi driver said this morning?”

“Just a hug! I won’t go any further unless you want me to!” he says defensively.

“Okay.” She moves closer to the middle of the bed, closing the distance between them. His arms wrap around her tenderly as she does the same. She buries her head in his neck, breathing through her nose. He smells nice from whatever shower stuff he used at Dirk and Roxy’s house this morning.

“Today felt like a dream,” he mumbles into her hair. “Just hanging out.”

“Me, too,” she answers. Not quite the correct response now, is it?

They lie for a few minutes, the sensation of another person breathing very soothing. “Can I kiss you?”

“Mm-hmm,” she sighs. She opens her eyes and separates from him to look up at his face. “I… I love you, Jake.”

It’s his turn to close the distance as he bends his neck down to kiss her lips. “I love you too, Janey.” He brings his hand up to the back of her head to bring her closer.

“Should we remove these pesky glasses first?”

“Oh yeah.” They both take off their glasses, and Jake takes them both and reaches behind him to place them on the end table next to the bed.

She feels that she would be completely content if they just stayed like this forever. She suddenly remembers something from all those years ago. She reaches down to the bottom of his shirt and asks, “May I?”

“Y-yeah,” he answers.

She gulps, readying her heart for more scars like her own. If he’s comfortable about sharing his, then maybe she can be, too. What she sees is only slightly better than her imagination. He had gotten a bit muscular over the years since he got a weight room installed next to his room at the mansion on the hill. His torso is covered in healed scratches, and then she saw it as he took off the rest of his shirt: _that_ scar, the x-shaped one. She runs her fingers over it with a light touch and his breath shudders.

“You remember that one?”

Jane nods. She curls her fingers and fiddles with the bottom of her own shirt. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath as she removes it herself.

“Jane, you’re worse than I am!”

“That’s because I did some of them myself.” Not all of them, of course.

“You did these?”

“The bruises are not me.” She then points to some faded cuts from scars just below her ribs. “These are me, though.”

She feels her hand being squeezed tightly. “I’m so sorry, Janey, I didn’t know. You don’t deserve any of them.”

She shook her head. “But they’re really old, see? They’re almost gone now.” She told him before about her faster-than-normal-healing, so he should believe her.

“I still can’t help thinking this is my fault. Mother said—”

“Let’s not talk about her,” she interrupts. “I’m sick of her. Let’s never speak of her again.” She buries her face in his chest. He kisses the top of her head and runs her hands through her short hair.

For the next week-and-a-half, they live on takeout, more movies, and the occasional walk around the block. The receptionist never reminded them that they had to pay up eventually, but they didn’t exactly remind him, either. They usually just snuck down the fire escape to avoid the lobby altogether. There was a thrift store nearby, so Jane went ahead and bought herself some normal-enough-looking street clothes. She didn’t want to do with anything remotely close to knee-length dresses with frills ever again. She all-about died when she found a graphic tee with one of the beasts from “Problem Sleuth” TV show on it, and purchased the thing immediately.

It’s only after many hours of discussion and exactly twelve days following their escape do they decide to go beyond their nightly kiss-and-cuddle. It’s clumsy and awkward, but loving. She’s only dreamed of these things, and now that they are happening, she can still hardly believe them.

“Janey, are you ready?” he whispers.

“I’m ready,” she whispers back.

Tonight, it’s not about satisfaction, but about love and trust. For her, anyway. There have never been secrets between them until three months ago, and she never wants that to happen ever again. She hopes that he feels the same way. No more secrets. No more.

* * *

 

Jake opens his eyes blearily, still expecting to see his own pillow at the mansion up on the hill. Instead, he sees Jane’s sleeping face. They are still lying in the hotel bed, facing each other. He sighs with relief and smiles, stroking her hair off of her forehead and behind her ear.

He can hardly believe last night happened. It was everything he never thought he wanted, and he hopes it was the same for her, too. He kisses her forehead.

Before he could wake her up with a proper “Good morning”, someone else does it for him.

“Good morning, children. Time to get up.”

“Jane! Janey! Wake up!” He shakes her shoulder roughly and she jolts awake. Jake keeps his eye on his mother as she protests to sleep more. “Mother found us!”

She gasps awake, looking to their mother on the chair. Her face goes stark white as she sees the nightmare in front of them sitting politely, yet ominously. They both cover themselves with the sheets.

“I really gotta thank you, Jane,” she states, smiling.

“For what?” she asks nervously. Jake wraps his arms around her protectively. If she’s trying to mess with his head, it’s not going to work!

“For leading me right to your brother.”

“What are you saying?” she asks.

“I mean,” she turns her face to glance at the backpack they brought, “You think I wouldn’t find out about your little toy?”

“What toy?”

“You’re so much like me, it’s gillarious!” she laughs. “Your little fork! It was so coddamn cute, I just had to!”

Jake is totally lost. “Get to the point!” he says.

She sighs, dropping the nice act. “Fine.” She stands up and points at them with a ringed finger. “Sleep.”

And just like that, he falls asleep.

* * *

 

Jane wakes up again in a dark room. Her head pounds as she sits up in a cot of some sort. Where is she? Looking around, she notices that she can’t even see her hand in front of her face. She tries to shift her position when she feels something heavy against her ankle. It feels like a chain. A very heavy one.

The last thing she remembers is her mother forcing them to sleep. How did she do that? And where’s Jake?!

_Clang!_ A thin beam of yellow light appears in front of her and illuminates a spot on the ground, which turns out to be cement.

“Good evening Jane,” her mother greets.

“Where’s Jake?” she demands. “And where are we?”

“Temper, temper, young lady. He’s fine.” She chuckles. “He’s just going through a li’l panwashing at the moment.” Panwashing? Does she mean…? “Currently, you’re in the sub-basement. An’ don’t bother yelling for help, this whole level is underground. It ain’t used much, so it’s a bit bland.”

Jane feels her eye twitch. “What are you going to do with us?”

“Whale, if the experiment goes as planned, then you won’t remember any of this. Although, you’ll still have your sick, human love thing, much to my chagrin. The goal is to make you both see me as the perfect mother I am.”

“Mothers don’t do this to their children!” Jane yells.

“A mother does what’s _best_ for her children!” she fires back. She clears her throat. “In any case, you’re next, so sit tight!”

“Why?” Jane swallows and repeats herself. “Why are you doing this?”

“You’ve been sleeping, so you don’t know.” She smiles wickedly. “Jake made a bargain.”

“What?” Jane’s breath quickens.

“He said that if he stays, he can have you, but he can never leave. I’m just making sure he keeps his end of the deal, and crushing his adventurous nature. Permanently.” At that, she closed the metal window, leaving Jane in the dark again.

She draws her knees up to her chest as best as she can with the chain still attached. She’s not sad, not yet. She’s angry. She’ll never forgive her mother now. She has gone too far. Who does she think she is, taking away a part of Jake’s personality like that?! She won’t allow herself to be brainwashed. She’s going to hang on to herself as long as she can, even if she’s kept down here forever!

* * *

 

Jake wakes up extremely groggy indeed. He remembers going with Janey to a hotel. He remembers visiting Dirk and Roxy, he remembers going down the hill, and he remembers rushing back home to get Jane because he realized he needed to rescue her.

He sits up, letting the covers fall into his lap. He’s in his old room, surrounded by his blue ladies and movie posters. Everything is green and familiar. It gives him a sense of dread.

“Good morning Jake,” he hears his mother’s soothing voice. Oh shit.

“Top of the morning, mother,” he replies, trying to smile genuinely.

She blinks slowly before continuing. “I just wanted to welcome you back home.”

“Where’s Jane? Is she back, too?”

She looks away. “She’s… She doesn’t want to see you.”

He frowns, confused. What on earth? “Cripes, that doesn’t sound like her.”

“Well, you were gone for three months without a word, so it’s safe to assume she’s still angry.”

That can’t be right! They did the sideways waltz! She can’t be mad unless… was he bad at it? He might have been. He did say some pretty cheesy lines. “When do you think she’ll be ready to see me?”

“That all deep-ends on her,” she reassures him.

“I think I can wait for her. I’ve waited long enough, gosh darn it! Remember what you promised me!”

She is visibly taken aback by the exclamation. If he is going to ask, he’s going to do it now.

“Mother, I’ve been thinking,” he starts to say. He takes a deep breath. “I’d like to be with Jane. So can I have your blessing?” She promised on the tape she sent.

She sighs, sitting down on his bed. “I’ve been watching you two for a while now, and I believe I’m ready to give you what you want. Just promise me one thing in return.”

“Yes?” He fiddles with his T-shirt collar nervously.

“Take care of my sweet, sweet child, and you can stay as long as you want. There’s even plenty of room to raise your own offspring if you decide. Will you do that for me?” Her sweet behavior makes him sick.

“Well, I have no reason to leave,” he says unconsciously. Then he pauses, wondering why he doesn’t feel the need to escape anymore. What the Dickens?! “I promise to take care of her.”

“Good.” She gets up to leave. She pauses at the door and adds, “I’ll see what I can do about Jane, so don’t you worry your silly head.” At that, she finally leaves.

She’s up to something, he knows it. He’ll keep his suspicions under wraps for the time being. In the meantime, he has a hankering for a certain girl in his life.

He gets out of the bed and stumbles. How long was he out? The last time he felt this out of commission, he was asleep for two full days! He needs to find Jane, and quick. He hobbles to the window and tries to open it, only to find that the mortars had been cemented over from the outside.

What in the hell is going on???

* * *

 

“Are you ready to come out now, young lady?” her mother asks.

“Yes, mother,” she replies obediently. She finally sees the light. All these years, she finally understands. She’ll never get out for as long as she lives.

“Good.” She unlocks the door and opens it, letting the light illuminate the entire room. How long had it been since she and Jake had returned? Two days? A week? A month? It doesn’t matter anymore. “I’ve prepared your old room. How are you feeling?” she asks as she unlocks the chain.

“I’m fine.” Lie. She stands up. She feels nauseous. Her stomach yearns to heave food that doesn’t exist. The only thing she’d been served was water and saltines. She gags, keels over, and vomits the only thing left in her stomach, which is a foul-tasting acid. She is so disgusted with herself right now.

“Here, let me help you,” her mother offers. Jane tries to resist, but she’s embarrassingly weak. She’s lifted up from the ground and held like a child again in her mother’s arms. “I’ll get you some hot soup.”

“No,” she breathes. “Eggs and… raisins. All mixed together.” She licks her lips and adds, “And chrysanthemum.” She’s only had it once, bit she has a hankering for them again.

“Alright, dear.” She pats Jane’s back. “Welcome back.”

She wants to say that she hates her, but she’s too tired. She stays silent as she is carried all the way back to her room and laid gently on the bed. The new imprisoning punishment wasn’t a complete failure. She still wants to escape, she just had no hope left. She’ll just be found again, then punished even worse.

She hears the door close and lock. She allows her mind to drift to Jake. She misses him so much. She curls into a ball again, not bothering to get a pillow. Everything that has happened since their birthday replays like a film reel in her head. It pauses the night he returned to her when he opened the window and she nearly killed him. She involuntarily starts to cry again, trying not to expect him to appear at her window and whisk her away again. The world isn’t that gracious.

Nearly an hour later, she is awoken by the sound of her door unlocking. The smell of the food she requested earlier makes her turn her head to the door, stomach rumbling. However, the person carrying the tray isn’t her mother.

“Where can I put this?” he asks nervously.

Groaning, Jane pushes herself up from the mattress, suddenly feeling slightly more energized after her nap. He quickly puts it on the bed next to her and steps away.

“I’ll give you some time, Jane.” He turns to leave. No, wait. Come back.

“Jake,” she rasps, reaching for his arm. She misses and grazes his arm with her fingertips. He must have felt it, because he then turns around.

“Jane?”

“Don’t go,” she whispers, looking up at him. She stands up shakily, using the bed as support. Bad idea. She nearly slips but Jake steadies her again.

“You’re not mad at me?”

“You’re a moron,” she laughs. “But no, I’m not mad. I just miss you a lot.”

“Really?” He looks into her eyes for confirmation.

“Yes!”

He brings her into a tight hug. “I’m sorry.”

She can tell he blames himself, so she gives him a peck on the cheek. “Don’t apologize. Just feed me.”

“Yes, ma’am!” he replies enthusiastically.

“Promise you’ll never leave me?”

“I won’t make that mistake again. You’ll probably kill me for real.”

“I can’t kill you.” She laughs softly. “How could I live without you?”

“Let’s get you fed.” He takes the plate full of eggs and raisins and serves her a spoonful.

Instead, she grabs the plate instead, taking the utensil from him and scarfing it all down herself. She’s not nauseous anymore. Inexplicably, she’s also happier now that Jake is here. It’s just the two of them, and it’s more than she ever wanted. She tries not to think about what tomorrow might bring.

* * *

 

That following September, Jake hears an insistent knock on his door in the middle of the night. Mother had taken the locks off their doors completely now, and they were free to travel from room to room again. Their mother still took Jane out for her daily routines, but it looked like she was still keeping up her end of the bargain. He gets out of bed, rubbing his eyes.

“Jane, what’s wrong?” he asks as he opens the door.

“I haven’t had my period in two months,” she says quietly. “I had it just before we… but I…”

“What?”

“I think I’m…” She struggles to swallow. Had she been crying again? “I think I might be pregnant.” Her hand instantly goes to her abdomen.

“I, uh…” What can he say? What can he do? He leads her into his room and shuts the door. “Are you okay?” Good idea, old chap.

“I’m really scared!” She paces around the room as she speaks. “It was only one time! And we didn’t… I didn’t think I’d…!” She covers her mouth with both hands, suppressing sobs and shaky breaths. She’s on the verge of tears. Hug her, stupid!

He stops her pacing by putting his hands on her shoulders. She looks up at him, probably scared out of her mind. He hugs around her neck. “It’s okay, Janey. We’ll get through this together.”

“There’s so much stuff to work out, I don’t know if I can do it.” She returns the embrace, swaying back and forth with him. “A part of me is really, really happy. But another part of me is scared for him or her. What will their life be like? We’re still living with mother!”

“Mother told me that we could raise our children here if we wanted,” Jake says.

Jane stays silent for a long time. When they let go of each other, she says, “Well, if you’re so sure that they’ll be safe here…” She takes a deep breath. “Then we’ll stay.”

Her decision gives him an uneasy feeling, like they’re not out of the woods yet, but if anything happens, he’s not going anywhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's title brought to you by: Pink Floyd


	21. Sometimes It Hurts Instead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I got inspired.  
> Oh yeah, and another one of your favorites dies.  
> sorrynotsorrybecauseyouknewthiswouldhappenbecauseinonceuponadissensionaradiais12andhowdoesthathappenwellWEWILLSEEWONTWE.  
> Prepare for feelings to be hurt and realized, then hurt, then realized some more.  
> And some fluffy stuff with children and their mentors.

_Here we go again, more fucking horror terrors._

_This time, instead of Terezi being hung on that single post in a scorched field, it’s everyone he knows on the island on multiple posts, and the field is still ablaze. He’s tugged on his arm, and he looks down to see himself there. He yanks away, but the other him is too strong. On his other side, another him tugs, and has a rope. He turns to run, but it’s like he’s running in slime. The two smaller Karkats grab him, get the rope around his neck, and start dragging him. He’s holding onto it for dear life, while simultaneously trying to not get burned by falling fireballs. They hook the rope over the top and pull him up, up, up… It’s only a matter of time now. The smell of the field burns his nostrils as he struggles to breathe._

_Someone’s calling him. But how? All of his friends are dead._

“Karkat! Fuck!”

Karkat jolts awake, breathing hard like he just ran a fucking marathon around a bonfire. And speaking of fire…

“Karkat, get out of here!” Sollux yells. The room Karkat borrowed is filled with smoke. Is the hotel on fire? “The hotel ith on fire and I can’t find Aradia!”

Karkat scrambles to his feet, running about to grab everything of value, which wasn’t much; only some shoes and his cape thing, which may or may not have Kanaya’s picture from that one time in it. “She probably did the smart thing and ran outside!”

“She went to get the guests out!”

“Don’t they have alarms?”

“She went to check for morons, like you!” As soon as he said that, the alarm in the room went off.

Karkat and Sollux run out just in time for a gas pipe to explode in the room they were just in. Their boss is going to be pissed. The extended stay hotel they manage after hours isn’t very popular, but they still have loyal customers. They’ve been working here, helping run the place for a few months now, and “summer” has hit hard. Whatever nookstain had lit a fire in their room for warmth must be regretting it now. Probably some shithead who wanted toasted marshmallows but was too high to realize they need to be outside for that. He facepalms at the theory.

Karkat smells smoke again, but in close proximity, so he looks down to see his cape had been singed. Great, now he looks like a vagabond. He pats it down with disgust, then looks around for Sollux. And he’s gone. Probably to go look for Aradia. As he stated before, she probably went to a safe place.

He decides to carefully make his way to the front of the now-burning building, where there are flashing lights and blaze-control units are trying to extinguish the fires. The boss, a human male with a strong disposition and a kind heart stands, staring at the unfortunate circumstance in front of him. He looked like he had been crying, and rightly so. This business was his only livelihood, burned to the ground by some idiot who had no regard for others’ safety. Karkat wonders if that weird kid who left suddenly last night, who also broke the television in his room, had anything to do with it. Karkat’s still angry about that. He didn’t even pay. Sure, he left some bills behind, but he left everything else, too. Karkat gets a migraine just thinking about it.

Karkat also sees the few guests they were looking after standing around, searching their things for spare change, and also looking around for a phone. He’s like them now, homeless without a thing to their names. Some of them were like that guy, by themselves, but others were entire families, living in two rooms, sharing a bathroom, and they just lost everything, small appliances included. Karkat turned a blind eye to them, knowing that said appliances weren’t allowed on the premises, and it’s highly unlikely one of them started the fire.

“I can’t find her!” Sollux shouts over the noise. No.

“Who?” the boss asks.

“Aradia! Where did she go?”

“She wasn’t stuck in this, was she?”

“Some of the alarms were working properly, tho she went to go fix them, then I thaw the thmoke…” Sollux chokes up. He never does that. He starts breathing hard. “ARADIA!” he calls at the top of his lungs. “ARADIAAAA!!!”

The building responds by collapsing, sending burning ashes into the sky. The blaze-control units are shouting for people to get back, telling them it’s impossible to save the building now. If everyone isn’t outside by now, they’re gone. No one could survive that.

Sollux bolts forth. Karkat springs into action, grabbing his middle and making them hit the ground hard.

“You stupid asshole!” he yells. “You’ll die!”

“Maybe she’th sthill alive! Let me go!”

“Get ahold of yourself! No one can survive that!”

“You don’t know that!”

“She’s dead, Sollux! Stop struggling and let me save you!” Karkat pants.

“No! Fuck!” Sollux squirms, but Karkat’s grip only tightens. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUUUCK!” He screams more unintelligible things that sound like Aradia’s name, then he descends into silence. Their boss comes over with some paramedics, and they come take Sollux away, leaving Karkat alone to stare at the flames.

He never should have left the island.

* * *

 

“How are you holding up, Kanaya?” Feferi asks, leaning over her bed. She’s been like this since Karkat, Sollux, and Aradia left. Every day, after she’s finished with her duties and the grub-children are put to sleep, she goes straight to her own and does not emerge for hours. Vriska is thoroughly annoyed at her newfound job of taking over care of the grub-children at night. Sometimes Feferi does it when Vriska “takes off” with her boat.

“I am fine, don’t worry about me,” Kanaya finally answers, not moving.

Feferi sighs. She straightens herself and leaves the block, giving up for the evening. Right outside the door, Porrim sits on the ground, knees drawn close to her chest and hands fiddling with some loose threads on her dress.

“Is she okay?” she asks, looking up at Feferi. Her horns are getting taller, so they almost hit the wall behind her.

“Kanaya is fin! Fine!” she replies cheerily. When Porrim gives a small smile in return, Feferi takes her hand and pulls her up. “Do you know how to sew?”

“Yes!”

“Can you teach me?”

“Okay!”

Porrim leads her to the girls’ shared block, where only two other trolls were sleeping, the others trying to get each other to sleep by whispering harshly. Whale, until Feferi walked in, then they silenced themselves immediately.

“I’m just getting my sewing stuff,” Porrim whispers into the darkness. Nobody responds, so she carefully makes her way back to Feferi. “Come on.” She leads Feferi to a doorless block, one that they haven’t finished renovating yet, and starts digging around in a large chest. “I found these things of fabric.” She pulls out some beautiful fuchsia-colored fabric, enough to wrap them both several times. “Isn’t this your blood color?”

“Close,” Feferi says, stepping forth to touch it. “It’s a little darker, but it’s still reely pretty.”

“It’s not your color.”

“What?” Feferi is blubbergasted. “I’ve worn it all my life! And it’s my blood color! How is it ‘not my color’?”

“I don’t think it fits your personality.” She pauses. “I like bright colors on you! Like blue and green and yellow and gold!”

Now she gets it. “Are you useang me for dress-up?” she scolds lightly, putting hands on her hips.

“Yep!”

Feferi can’t help but laugh. It’s the first reel one she’s had in a long time. She laughs so much that she begins to tear up.

“Did I do something wrong?” Porrim asks, worried. Feferi opens her eyes and sees the fabric on the dirty floor, the small troll putting a hand on her arm in concern.

“No, you’re good! I just didn’t expect it.” She kneels down and puts her hands on Porrim’s shoulders. “Just hang on to that eeling.”

“Eeling?”

“ _Feeling_. It’s a good one. When you all are older and leave the island to work, you can be waterever you want to be.” She gives an encouraging smile.

“Can I make people clothes?” she asks, smile growing wide.

“Do you want to make clothes?” Feferi raises an eyebrow, wiggling it.

“I want to make sad people pretty. Because maybe if I can make them pretty, they won’t be sad.”

Feferi didn’t expect that, either. She hunchbacks her shoulders, but quickly raises them again. “Whale, who do you think is sad? Me? Kanaya?” Had Feferi been that obvious? She knew Kanaya was a steel box when it came to her personal life, but…

“Yeah. I can always tell. I can feel the air get weird and I can always tell who’s making it weird.”

“Have you tried making Kanaya prettier?”

She just shakes her head.

“Does she make you nervous?”

She nods her head.

“Don’t be!” Porrim tilts her head slightly, confused. “Kanaya is the nicest troll I know. Nicer than me sometimes! Glub!” Feferi brought her fists up to her own cheeks when she said that.

Porrim giggles. “Thanks, Feferi.” She turns to the fabric on the ground and folds it up neatly, putting it back in the chest. She rifles through it some more and takes out some more fabric, but it’s not bright or neon colored; it’s a dull red with swirling designs on it.

“What are you making?”

“A dress.”

“Who for?”

“It’s a secret,” she whispers. She immediately gets to work, grabbing a piece of charcoal and doodling on the floor. Feferi could tell that the charcoal was from the fireplace downstairs. She feels sorry for Porrim, she doesn’t have anything to work with besides whatever she can find in her environment.

Feferi silently decides to leave. She needs to talk to Vriska.

* * *

 

“You want me to get _what?_ ” Vriska asks incredulously. “At _this hour?_ ”

“Think of it as another iron!” Feferi says with a pleading tone. Vriska loves it when people beg, but coming from Feferi just makes feels her feel like a terrible person.

“Do you have any idea what that word even means?”

“No, but they’re not for me, so…”

Vriska scoffs lightly. “So you’re willingly giving me permission to manipulate a young troll by fulfilling a request?”

“I know it sounds bad, but it’s something you would do, right?”

“Damn! You know me too well. And am I seeing a royal highblood turning into a ruffian like myself?”

“Glub!”

“Okay, okay! You don’t need to glub at me. But seriously, no matter who this is coming from, it’s still manipulation, and it still involves you.” When Feferi doesn’t respond, Vriska resists all of the urges to slap her own forehead and elaborates: “I fulfill this request as yours, and you’re in my debt and are subject to manipulation by me. I fulfill this request as hers, she’s in my debt and is subject to manipulation by me. Either way, how is this different than literally every other request I’ve gotten over the past year?”

Feferi looks at the ground sheepishly and doesn’t reply for a long time. “Because it’s her dream. It’s special. You might have to work harder to get them.” She suddenly looks up, making Vriska twitch involuntarily. “What if we go with you?”

“You want to subject yourselves to this madness?” Vriska yells, pointing to her own horns. “It’s not pleasant! I refused to let Aradia do it because she’s so fucking anemic! She found a way around it. Somehow. I may work them hard, but I don’t like hurting them like that!” Speaking of which, she has to do it again soon, because her horns are becoming more and more obvious. She can’t hide behind her hat for much longer.

“I can do it.” Feferi pauses. “They’ll grow back.”

“That’s not the point—”

“And look what I can do with my fins! I’ve been practicing!” Before Vriska can refuse, the naïve seadweller flattens her fins so completely, they look like stray hairs attached to her face. That’s… impressive, actually.

Vriska sighs. “Fine. We’ll go in the morning. Get some sleep.”

A thump comes from upstairs. Damn boys, they can never keep quiet at night. The girls are much better behaved. At least they go right to sleep. The boys are much more ornery. But she can control them better than Kanaya at the moment. They split up the work after Karkat left, and that meant Vriska couldn’t get to the mainland as often as they needed. Most of the time, Vriska had to do both money-making and money-spending, and that meant she earned less money each time so she would have time to get the supplies they needed before the stores closed.

“Just go, I have work to do.”

“Thank you! Glub, glub!” Feferi squeals and hugs Vriska’s middle.

“Okay, okay! Get off! I said I have work to do!” And troll boys to throttle. “You’re welcome!” She shoves the seadweller away and heads inside. Her face is burning. She slaps herself on both cheeks to give herself the excuse.

Silently, she climbs the stairs, careful not to give her position. They don’t know it, but she can see every single troll-child hiding behind various furniture in the hallway, waiting for her to pass by.

She takes out her gun, locked and loaded. She eyes the first mistake: Mituna’s horns sticking out from the top of a broken-beyond-repair set of drawers. The second: A leather jacket arm that can only be worn by Cronus. The third: Kurloz’s hair in the fake greenery that doesn’t really count, but she’ll work around it. The fourth: Rufioh’s horn in the doorway of an unsafe block. The fifth: Horuss’s heavy breathing in the ceiling, which she had to admit was clever, and which was probably the thumping she heard earlier. She stops at the sixth and seventh: Kankri barking soft orders, and his bright red sweater reflecting off the white moonlight and onto the floor at the end of the hallway. Where the hell did he get that thing, anyway?

She shoots the foam bullets rapid fire at Mituna’s horn, Cronus’s arm, Kurloz’s general face area, Rufioh’s horn, and the wall behind Kankri. By the time he gets up to tell her she missed, it bounces back and hits the back of his head. Out of the ones she had hit, they all groan.

“Forgettin’ somethin’?” Cronus sneers.

“Nope,” she sneers back. She takes Cronus by his arm and the back of his stupid jacket, also wondering where he got that repulsive outfit, and throws him up at the paneling, hitting Horuss and making them both fall right into Vriska’s waiting arms. “Nice try, but you have a long way to go before you all beat me at my own training techniques.” She then mutters, “Bunch of twots,” and lets them go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's song title is brought to you by Adele.


	22. Quality Time With Somebody

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, I feel like I made Kanaya too sappy in this one.

Days. Weeks, maybe. He can still see her hair flowing through the bitterly cold winds, her not being able to feel a thing because her blood runs hotter than most. He still clings on to those memories of her, even though she’s gone.

“I told her,” a small voice in his thinkpan says. It’s about three in the morning. He’s either hearing things again, or he’s dreaming, because it’s still pitch black and he’s still trying to live away from the island with Karkat. _Karkat_. He can blame Terezi’s death on him and have it be true, but leaving the island was not his fault at all. As a matter of fact, the whole plan was Sollux’s idea.

“Thupid mind honey thill hathn’t worn off,” he mutters, turning over so that he’s facing the curtain-covered window, not Karkat’s bed. Startled, Sollux twitches and almost falls off the bed. He holds back a curse to prevent Karkat from waking up. Someone is standing there, slightly illuminated by the sliver of midday light coming through the curtains. It’s a smallish girl-troll with a bun and mini-skirt, which he doesn’t recognize, but round horns, which he does.

“I warned her not to go, but she did, right?” She giggles.

“Damara, what are you talking about?” he asks.

“The fire,” she says nonchalantly. How dare she. “I told her it would happen.”

One side of him wants to smash her head in right then and there and demand to know how she knew. The other side asks through gritted teeth, “How?”

She bends down and whispers closely, “If I tell you, you’ll wake up Karkat, and we don’t want that to happen, right big boy?” Big boy? When did she get so weird?

“I don’t give a fuck about Karkat. Tell me now, or I’ll—”

“Gotta go,” she interrupts him with a wink. “Shit to do, languages to learn…”

“Wait!”

And just like that, she’s gone. He twists behind him to look at the digital clock again, which reads after four. He lost an entire hour. Talking with Damara only took less than a minute. Did he fall asleep? Was she actually there? Or was this some long-term effect of too much mind honey as a grub? Whatever way he looks at it is impossible.

He rolls onto his back, staring at the ceiling. Maybe he should just do away with himself now. It’s not like anyone will miss him. He wouldn’t miss him.

He sighs, trying to go back to sleep. He hasn’t slept well in a while. His night terrors have returned and woken up Karkat a few times already. Karkat’s not the heaviest sleeper around.

The next thing he knows, Karkat practically shoves him out of bed.

“Rise and shine, nookstain,” he says, rifling through Sollux’s pile of “clean” clothing for a shirt.

“Were you up all night trying to come up with that one?” Sollux fires back. Karkat just sticks up his middle finger in Sollux’s direction and continues his search in vain. There are no shirts in that pile. Sollux only owns one shirt, which he’s wearing currently.

Karkat finally groans in frustration and returns to his own pile of questionables.

“Have you talked to Kanaya at all?”

“Have _you_ talked to Kanaya at all?”

“No, why should I?”

“Then why should _I?_ ”

“I don’t know.”

“Then drop it. I’m going to do laundry, you have any change?”

“Yeah,” he sighs, dropping the subject. Why should he care anyway? It’s Karkat’s life so Sollux shouldn’t interfere, right? Especially with his quadrants. Sollux was fine with just Terezi and Aradia before, and he’s pretty sure Karkat was okay with… whoever he had besides Terezi. Did he even have anyone besides Terezi? Gamzee? Eridan? Feferi? _Nepeta?_ Well fuck, who cares how many red interests Karkat has? Sollux has never cared before and he doesn’t now.

“I’m only doing my laundry, you’re on your own for yours.” He gathers up all his clothes at once in one arm and turns to leave.

“Fuck you, too, KK.”

* * *

 

“So, it’s been a week and Damara’s still missing?” Meenah overhears her ancestor in her block. By clamplete accident, of course. She was just passing by. Reely slowly. For the fifth time.

“I’m sorry, we’ve looked everywhere,” Kanaya says apologetically.

“Why isn’t she on a leash again?” Eridan asks. _Whack!_ “Fef!”

“Kinda deserved that one, cape-y,” Vriska laughs.

“Shut up, Wris!”

“I hope she’s okay,” Nepeta adds.

_She creeped us out most of the time,_ Meenah thinks.

“Meenah, what are you—” Latula’s voice almost gives away their position, so Meenah grabs her and clamps a hand over her mouth.

“Shh! I’m spyin’!” she hisses.

“We cannot let the others know.” Kanaya. So far, they haven’t noticed.

“Why not?” Feferi.

“They’ll start asking why she didn’t take any of them with her.” Vriska. Mumbling: “Within good reason, if you ask me.”

“What can we tell them?” Nepeta.

“Maybe they won’t notice.” Eridan.

“I do not like to admit it, but he’s right.” Kanaya.

“I know Meenah wouldn’t mind not having her around.” Vriska. Loudly. Like she knew Meenah was there the whole time. Meenah gulps.

“Don’t say that!” Feferi. “I’m sure they’re all fronds.”

“Hate to burst your bubble.” Vriska.

“Sis has been gone longer than y’all motherfuckers think.” Gamzee. Gamzee?! Of course he’d be in the adult meeting, he’s an adult! He just gives Meenah the creeps.

“Thus leaves us with the imminent question.” Vriska.

“Do we tell them nothing?” Feferi.

“That settles that, then.” Vriska. “I have to get my ship ready for tonight.”

“Stop callin’ it a ship, it’s just a boat!” Eridan.

“I’m going to remember that little comment the next time you find yourself outside my block wanting my company.” Vriska. Feferi giggles at that. Footsteps follow and Meenah and Latula scramble away.

“Go, go, go!” Meenah pushes Latula into the room next door, also known as Porrim’s workshop. “Sorry, Porrim, we gotta hide.”

No response. Typical. When she’s focused, she’s gone. Meenah follows Latula’s gaze, piering over the seamstress’s shoulder. It looks like she’s making another dress. There were already a bunch of them on hangers around the block, so why is she making another one?

“That’s hella cute,” Meenah says, nudging Porrim. “Can I have it when you’re done?”

“No,” Porrim answers shortly.

“Hmmph!”

“I haven’t done yours yet. I still need to collect the right shells.”

“What?!” Meenah nearly shrieks. She clams herself down and says, “Does it have pants? Can I swim in it?”

“I haven’t designed it yet, either.”

“Why not?”

“I’m busy.”

“Why!”

“I actually have a life and things to do instead of eavesdropping on everybody else’s. Go away. Please.”

“Fine. Come on Latu—What the halibut!” She sees Latula taking down a short red-and-teal dress off its hanger. “Put it back!” She scowls and takes the dress off the hanger. “Latula.” She puts just the hanger where she found it. Meenah throws her hands up in the air. “Fin. Do what ya want and play dress-up or waterever. Vriska’s probably gone now so I will, too, since I’m the only one who remotely cared about any of us.”

She flings the curtain open and stomps out, and as she turns down the hallway, she bumps into Vriska.

“Vri—Captain!” she stammers. She straightens herself up and puts her hands on her hips. Giving a smug grin, she say, “What’cha doin’ with us bottom-feeders?” Meenah wants to show that she doesn’t give a shit about their former captain since Karkat’s not here anymore.

“Just looking to catch some rats,” she replies nonchalantly. “I heard some skittering about during the adult meeting, so I went to investigate.” She pauses to check her nails, which are painted her blood color with black tips. “Of course, if they confess, I won’t make them take a long walk off a short plank.”

“Ya don’t even have a plank.”

Vriska just laughs. “Yeah, you’re right! We’ll just have to go with the alternative, then.”

Meenah snorts in amusement. She pushes some plankton-sized doubt out of her mind.

Vriska pulls out a hook that looked like it was from a hanger. Meenah raises an eyebrow. “I got it from a story that reminded me of Pupa Pan. Have you ever heard of Captain Hook?”

“No.”

“Me neither. Then I read this planet’s version of Pupa Pan and realized he was little more than a huge baby with a hook instead of a hand chasing after a spoiled child and a crocodile. God, I love crocodiles. Nothing compared to spiders of course, but I digress.”

“This planet’s version? What the shell are you talkin’ about?”

“I’m getting to it.” She turns it in her hand for a second before speaking again. “This human pirate didn’t take prisoners. He either made him a part of his crew or sent him to sleep with the fishes.”

“ _Fish._ ”

“Don’t interrupt, I’m monologuing. Traitors, though, he would send to the crocodile.”

“Ya don’t have a crocodile.” Meenah says, crossing her arms. She isn’t sure if either of them even know what a crocodile is.

“You don’t know that.” Vriska’s smug grin stayed glued to her face that entire time.

“Why are ya tellin’ me this?”

“Because being a rat is the same as being a traitor.” They stare each other down for a moment before Meenah breaks eye contact to stare at the “hook” in Vriska’s left hand. Vriska turns on her heel and sashays down the hall, her long black coat swaying with her. “Let me know if you snag any!” she calls when she reaches the stairs at the end.

Meenah uncrosses her arms and lets them hang. She glances to her right, where the adult meeting is still taking place. She debates eavesdropping again. She’s not scared of Vriska per sé, but she does recognize her status in this house. She listens in anyway.

* * *

 

Kanaya had been distraught for a long time now. Karkat, Aradia, and Sollux had left so suddenly, she wasn’t sure what to do. But after realizing that they weren’t coming back after Vriska left without them, she picked herself up and sprang into action. She split up the work between herself and Vriska, she took the girls while her moirail took the boys. She was okay for approximately two days. Then she realized that she had nothing she wanted to do after she put the children to bed. No one she wanted to talk to after Vriska went to gather earnings. Nowhere she wanted to be except in her own block.

She is thankful for Feferi, who contributes sometimes with feeding and cleaning. She almost never leaves the island, so she’s with the children all the time. Back on Alternia, trolls their age would be talking back to their lusii and figuring out what they want to do in life. She knows that they’re all acting on instinct, so she let them do what they wanted only half the time. They seemed to listen when she told them to clean up after themselves, but as far as pursuing any form of practical human-based schooling structures, it was a struggle. She taught what she knew about Alternia for a while, but quit after a month of constant insurgence. Instead, she assigned them into vocational groups. The boys all went with Vriska to learn surveillance and intelligence, Latula and Aranea went with Feferi to learn politics, Meulin stayed with Nepeta to hunt, and Meenah, Porrim, and Damara didn’t choose any group.

Porrim. Kanaya wants to reach out to her descendent, but she never spoke back when approached. She decided to back off until the time became appropriate and retired to her block every evening. Kanaya sighs in her chair.

“What do you think, Kanaya?”

“What?” she reacts, jolted.

“Are you spacin’ out?” Eridan asks, both surprised and annoyed.

“Yes, I’m sorry.” She looks down, and blinks a few times and shakes her head. “What did you say?”

“We wanted to know what to do about the heat,” Feferi explains. “I don’t think I can take much more out of the water all the time.”

“There’s only two seadweller children that can breathe underwater, so we can’t necessarily just pull them from their studies just so we can help you grubsit.” Eridan’s tone was too acidic for her liking, but considers his words carefully.

“How about we teach them all how to swim?” Feferi suggests.

“Not all of them,” Nepeta says. “Also, Meulin and Nepeta are fine by ourselves, so can Nepeta take a nap?”

“Okay?” She shrugs and looks to Kanaya, who also shrugs.

“Next order o’ business!” Eridan yells. “This planet’s season solstice is tomorrow and I want to know how we’re goin’ to handle this heat! Not to mention the days are gettin’ longer.”

“I still like the swimming idea.”

“Water sounds nice,” Gamzee drags out that last word a little too long.

“Don’t you hawe a hotel to run?” Eridan spits, slamming his palms on the round table.

“Yeah.”

“What the fuck are you doin’ here then?”

Gamzee just shrugs.

“Newermind.”

“I think it’s splendid,” Kanaya finally says. She determined that once this matter would be settled, she could go about some personal business. She’s really in no mood to be with anyone in particular at the moment. Rather, she would prefer to be with a certain stubby-horned individual than here. “If that’s the last order of business, then I will go to check on the children.” She stands up, letting her fingers drag on the table’s surface lightly as she passed by it. As she did that, she heard something shuffling and looked around, but it was probably someone behind her shifting positions.

She first checks on the girls, who are all sleeping  soundly except Porrim, who’s not in her hammock. When she leaves, she notices that there’s a light in the next block over. The doorway is blocked by a thick curtain, so she peers in and sees Porrim hard at work over a sewing machine. Kanaya can’t believe what she’s seeing. Her jaw opens slightly and her breathing becomes shallow.

She’s making clothes.

Tears well up in Kanaya’s eyes, clouding her vision in a deep green fog. She blinks them away, covering her mouth. All this time, she had never realized that Porrim was doing the exact same thing she was doing when she was her age, which she gave up for reasons. And where did she get a sewing machine? When? Looking about the room, she sees colored dresses and other various outfits on hangers, unique and tailor-made to Kanaya’s trained eye. She peels back the curtain and quietly steps in. Porrim is hard at work at what looks like embroidery on a lime-colored dress. It was the sign they shared, what made them Maryams. It’s obviously too large for Porrim to wear at present, but perhaps…

Kanaya clears her throat as Porrim finishes off the project. She gasps and jumps in her chair, scrunching up the dress in her lap.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were so focused,” Kanaya apologizes. She purses her lips, giving her best understanding smile and trying not to get too emotional. She hoped her pride showed through.

“I-it’s okay!” she stammers, hiding the dress further.

“I was wondering why you were up so late, so I came in to ask how you were doing,” Kanaya says.

“How long have you known?” she asks bashfully.

“I didn’t.” Kanaya pauses to admire the work. “They’re beautiful.”

“This one’s yours!” Porrim suddenly thrusts the bundle of green into Kanaya’s middle. “It’s not very good, but I thought it would make you happy. I’m not done yet, either but…”

Kanaya holds out the dress, and then against herself. It goes to her knees and has no sleeves. She wishes she had a mirror. “It’s just fine the way it is, Porrim.” She meets Porrim’s eyes and says, “It makes me happy.” And just like that, Porrim’s eyes lit up, and a smile stretched across her face. She gets out of her chair and hugs Kanaya, resting her head on her bosom. Has she grown up this much already? “Off to sleep, now. We both need to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's title is brought to you by: Starfucker and Maroon 5


	23. Intermission 2, Act 2: So Long, Summer Childhood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Intermission time again!

Jane Crocker gasps awake, almost positive that it was just one of the babies kicking her again. She stays on her back, panting and staring at the ceiling until her breathing slows on its own. She swallows her dry mouth and turns her head to look to over at Jake, who’s still sleeping soundly. She wonders if she should just let him sleep, he doesn’t need to worry about her. She lets herself drift back to sleep, still facing him. Today is their birthday, and she wants to sleep in.

Hours later, the pain wakes her up again. This time, she notices the sky is brighter. The sun is rising. She sighs and tries to sit up, feeling bulbous, throwing off the quilt and—

Her sheets are soaked with water.

“Jake!” she shouts. “Jake, my water broke last night!” She hears him groan, but doesn’t wait for his excuse. “Jake, they’re  _here!_ ”

“Yikes! Okay, okay, uh!” He scrambles out of bed but gets tangled in the quilt, dragging it with him to the floor. “Call doctor, call mother, in that order!” He got it backwards from mother’s actual instructions, but Jane doesn’t care.

She has a feeling it’s going to be a very long day.

“Dr. S., it’s time!” Jake yells into the land line next to the bed. Jane manages to stand up, albeit wobbly from sleeping so long. “Yes sir, we’re on our way!” He rushes around the bed over to Jane, the phone still in his hand, steadying her. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just call mother, I’ll start getting dressed.” She waves him away and waddles over to her large closet, jam-packed with maternity clothes on the floor, and her childhood clothes hanging up, still scented with detergent from months ago, normal teenage years now far behind. She carefully bends over to pick up a random dress from the floor, baby blue with white lace borders, and tosses it aside. She grabs another one instead, red with “I heart heart mommy” on the belly, and tosses that one aside, too.  _Who’s bright idea was that?_  Jane wonders. She finally settles with a jade-colored dress with a dark blue collar and short sleeves.

“Mother! No, don’t yell, I know you’re still sleeping… Okay, okay! Calm down.” Jane shoots him a warning look and he hurries it up. “Get the car, it’s happening! What do you mean, ‘finally’?” Jane rolls her eyes. Like Jake hasn’t noticed that mother’s comments about her life before she owned the company. “We’ll be down soon!” He puts the phone back on the receiver and helps Jane out of her nightgown. “Whoa, nelly!” he exclaims as he looks down at her.

“What!”

“They’re moving in there, alright.” Jane looks down, still weirded out that sometimes their feet and hands make impressions through her skin.

“You want them to do the C-section here or at the hospital?”

“Hospital. Right!” He puts the dress on her, no bra and takes her hand. “It’ll be like an adventure!” He turns and basically drags her out the door. She had to laugh at that, but it comes out more sarcastic than her usual chuckle, and she feels a little better about this whole thing.

* * *

 

Jake can barely make a coherent thought in his brain right now. Six-and-a-half months he’d been waiting since Jane first told him she was pregnant, a little after that he was ecstatic to learn there were two of them, and he would have been happy about them coming so early. The babies are coming, the babies are coming! he repeated in his head over and over.

Just like mother promised, she was waiting for them in their fancy black Cadillac outside the back entrance of their factory/mansion. Their stoic driver was almost emotional today.

“Drive, Captor,” mother says as soon as Jake closes the door behind him and Jane. Jane stifles a moan as soon as the car starts moving. Was she having a contraction?

“Are you okay, Janey?” he asks, rubbing her shoulder.

“I’ll be fine once this is over,” she says, nearly glaring at mother sitting across from them. Mother glares back, like they’re having a silent lady conversation his male eardrums can’t detect. The tension in the air tightens then, making Jake uncomfortable.

“Drive faster, Mr. Captor!” Jake orders in his manliest voice. Both mother and Jane shake their heads, and possibly rolling their eyes at him. He stopped wondering why years ago. He shifts in the leather seat, wishing they could get there faster.

Jake: You’re going to be a father.

“I am!”

Jake: Stop talking.

“I’m going to be a father!”

Jake: Please stop.

“Gadzooks!”

“Will you shut up?!” both women yell simultaneously.

“Should I grow a mustache?”

“No,” Jane answers quickly.

“Can I grow a mustache when the kids are older?”

“Never.”

“Oh, come on Janey, I think you’ll like me when I’m stache’d.”

Jane purses her lips, trying to give him an icy glare, but he could tell she’s trying not to laugh. He fakes a mustache with his fingers and leans in close, summoning up his best English accent.

“Tally ho, young lady, I am Sargent Frillypants, have you seen my mustache wax anywhere?” Jane’s lips curl at the sides. “If you haven’t, please let Colonel Sassacre know that I may not be attending his hunting expedition today, because my mustache is misbehaving. Will you do that for me, young lass?” The car jolts and Jake shouts, “Blast it, these horseless carriages will be the death of me! And my mustache!”

Jane can’t hold it in anymore, she leans behind her against the door of the car, hugging her chest from laughing. Even mother cracks a small smile. However, the fun stops when they arrive at the hospital, just as the sun is coming over the mountains behind the factory. Dr. S. is waiting for them at the entrance to the maternity ward with a wheelchair. He’s not a tall man, and no hair to speak of, and he’s always wearing a hideously green shirt and matching tie, and Jake always forgets what the “S” stands for.

“Come, Crocker family, we have your room ready, and an OR standing by,” he says as they emerge. Jake remembers that they have to do this for twins, they can’t do it like normal babies or something. As they load Jane into the chair, she moans again, and not from straining to get in the chair. Dr. S. takes the chair and rolls her inside, Jake and their mother close behind. “Jane, I need you to tell me how long the contractions have been going on.”

“Since about four this morning?” she answers. “Maybe a little after that. It woke me up and I remember looking at the clock.” Why didn’t she wake him up? Jake wonders. Slightly dejected, he slows down a bit, then catches up when he falls behind out of arm’s reach.

“Excellent, we still have time for your epidural,” he drawls humorously. “Am I to assume that you want the procedure done as soon as possible?” Jane nods. “Excellent.” He must really like that word, because it’s freaking Jake out more than it should.

They finally arrive at her semi-permanent room and sit Jane down on the bed. Dr. S. pulls out a large, thick needle. Jake nearly faints at the sight of it. The doctor just chuckles to himself and takes out an a small needle, which is better, but still makes Jake queasy. He sticks the needle into the small of Jane’s back and she draws her breath in through her teeth.

“And now for the large one,” he says, looking right at Jake. Jake turns his head away. “Now, let’s get these monitors on you and—” Jane suddenly collapses onto her side, out like a light. Jake rushes over, frantic.

“Janey! Jane! Jane! Wake up!” He shakes her, but there’s no response.

“I suspected this,” the doctor says. Jake looks up at him, thoroughly confused and anger rising. “Relax, young man, she just needs to have the babies now, I’m afraid.”

“Finally,” mother mutters. Jake stares at her, appalled. She notices and says, “I want to see my grand-heirs, is that a crime?”

“No, mother,” Jake answers in monotone.

“Good.” She turns and opens the door, gesturing to the hallway. “May we let the doctor and Jane out now?”

He gets up silently, taking over holding the door open, letting the three out. After they pass, Jake stares at the empty room. He’s going to be a father. It’s both exciting and a huge responsibility, and he has never been so nervous in his life. He gulps and looks toward the retreating trio down the hallway, and takes out a hanky be brought just in case. He usually doesn’t sweat much, but today is different. Today, he’s going to be a father.

He’s going to be a father. Hoo boy.

He takes off down the hallway and meets up with mother, who’s waiting outside the OR, pacing back and forth like a wild animal waiting for prey to emerge from its habitat.

“Mother, please sit down!” he pleads. “Jane will be done soon.”

* * *

 

The last thing Jane remembers is being brought into the labor room. That quack doctor of theirs is a weird one, that’s for sure. She hasn’t opened her eyes yet, but she feels around for something besides sheets and blankets.

“My bay bees swear,” she mumbles, groggily. She was trying to ask where her babies were, but it came out jumbled. Opening her eyes blearily, she sees a dark-skinned nurse calling the doctor on the land line. “Gimm…”

“Shh, they’re coming,” the nurse says soothingly. “They’re just getting cleaned up next door.”

“Wah.” Jane motions with her hand to her mouth weakly, not used to not being able to use her own arm. She doesn’t like being weak like this. But it’s not the time to get frustrated, it’s time to hold her children for the first time.

“You’ll be able to move and speak soon, too,” the nurse assured her, “maybe ten more minutes until you can speak normally again.”  _Is that all?_ Jane wonders, her inner voice sarcastic. “I’ll be right back, honey, with both your babies.” She gives a sweet smile and leaves out the adjunct door.

Jane stares at the clock in her room, seconds ticking by steadily. Five minutes later, she’s able to move normally again, and it seems her ability pulled her through once again. She tests her voice, which works again, too. Good. Just then, the adjunct door opens and both children are brought in their own bassinets, one pushed by the nurse that was here earlier, and the second by a different nurse, blonde this time. She sits herself up in her bed.

“You want both of them, right?” the dark-skinned one asks.

“Yes,” Jane answers. She hands Jane the girl wrapped in pink, then the boy wrapped in blue. Both were already sleeping quite soundly. Jane smiles, eyes tearing up. They look exactly like their father. The girl opens her eyes slowly. Her eyes are green, just like Jake’s. They decided to pick the names as they were born. Jane thought that if they had green eyes like Jake, she would name the girl something like that, green, like Emerald or something, but one look into her daughter’s eyes and realized a much better name: Jade. It seemed to fit, like she was meant for it.

Jade and Jane stared into each other’s eyes for a long time. That is, until the door opened, and Jake stumbled in. He leapt and bounded to her, kissing her forehead lovingly. There’s a movie that’s just like this, Jane knows it.

“I named her Jade,” Jane whispers. “You can name the boy if you like.”

“How about… John?” he suggests.

Flabbergasted, Jane asks, “Why?”

“Because it also begins with a ‘J’?” he answers honestly. Jane scoffs, amused. She’ll give him that much.

“Alright,” she says, laughing dryly. And as if on cue, John starts crying, so Jane hands Jade to Jake carefully, and bounces John softly. “Okay, okay! Hush, my son, shh, shh, shh.”

He continues crying, but as soon as Jane kisses his cheek, he opens his eyes and stops, mouth hanging open. His eyes are blue, slightly darker than Jane’s, and just as wide and innocent and Jake’s. She fluffs John’s soft hair into separate tufts, but the similarities between him and Jake are more impeccable than Jake and Jade’s.

“Let’s hope you’re more handsome than your father is,” Jane whispers to him, “it’ll be our little secret.”

John whimpers in response.

“I’ve decided,” Jane hears her mother announce. She looks over at the three of them, scrunching her eyebrows in confusion. “This shall be my new heiress.”

_Oh, hell no,_ thinks Jane. “What do you mean by that?” she demands, ignoring Jake’s attempts at peacekeeping. At least he hasn’t handed their daughter over yet.

“I mean what I mean,” mother replies.

“Like you even need an heir,” Jane quips.

“And what if I do?”

“But you don’t!”

“Look, maybe I don’t wanna be runnin’ my company all my life, ya ever think’a that?” She almost never drops her formal speaking voice in public, but there’s no one around at the moment, and Jane desperately wishes there were.

“Can’t we all just get along?” Jake intervenes, bouncing Jade up and down gently. “Jade’s about to open the floodgates!” Jane looks down at John, who’s about to do the same. Her anger dissipates for the moment.

Jane sighs. “Fine. We’ll talk about this when we get home.” She rocks John, and his face softens and drifts to sleep.

“Yes we will,” mother says.

“So sorry to interrupt,” Dr. S. says suddenly, like he was in the room the whole time. Jane almost jumps, but John being in her arms prevented her from doing so. Even their mother seemed to be caught off-guard, and fiddles with one of the rings on her left hand, twisting it several times. “But we need to get you back to your room. We’ll keep the three of you here overnight for a few days, just to make sure nothing is wrong.” He looked at Jane when he said that. For the first time in nine months, she wonders if any of her… traits would be passed on, or worse, terrible mutations. He turns to the two by the door. “Standard procedure, as I’m sure you are already aware.”

“There’s no need,” mother says, “We have a full-time staff planned for in-home visits, and we are perfectly fine by ourselves, as I’m sure you are perfectly aware.”

Her mother and Dr. S. commence in a stare-down. On one hand, Jane is glad someone has the guts to stand up to such a powerful woman. On the other hand, Dr. S. gives her the willies. He finally says sternly, “Standard procedure is standard procedure, Mrs. Crocker, and no matter how powerful you are, there is still the matter of the law. The bigger you are,” he pauses and sneers, “the harder you fall. And all it takes is one silly… little…  _incident_.”

Mother’s eye twitches. She grits her teeth. “Fin,” she says through them. She slowly turns on her heel and stalks out the door.

The tension in the room cleared. “My apologies, Jake, but could you put your daughter in the bassinet?” Dr. S. asks kindly.

“Yeah, okay,” Jake answers obediently, approaching one of them and putting the pink bundle in it.

“If you would like to stay here at the hospital with your wife, you may do so. We have a separate bed in her room built for such occasions.” The word “wife” stuck in Jane’s mind like a needle in her fingertip.

“Golly! Sure!”

“Excellent.” Jane could have sworn he picked up on her weariness of him and smirks at her.

* * *

 

For the first time since the children were born, about three months into their new life, they slept all through the night, in which Jake was extremely relieved. Despite the massive amount of rooms there are in the house, Jane insisted that the four of them be in the same room. Jake jumped on the idea after that first night home because it meant they wouldn’t have to go to another room if one or both babies started crying. And boy did they need to get up often. John was the colicky one, and he woke up Jade quite a lot, too. Usually, he would cry harder if Jake picked him up. What’s up with that? He calmed down when Jane held him, though. Jade clung on to Jake, though, which was a relief because maybe sometimes he wanted to hold them, too! After about a week of their all-hours shenanigans, mother had burst in, trying to stop the noise, and when Jake shoved his crying daughter into his yelling mother’s arms, they both quieted immediately, unsure what to do with each other. Jade was already so alert, so all they did was stare awkwardly. When John finally calmed down, Jane put both babies back in their separate cribs by the window. Mother never returned to their room to tell them to make the crying stop.

Jane and Jake had thrown back their covers before they slept that night, because what would be the point if they were going to throw them off anyway in an hour? Besides, it’s in the middle of July, and boy is it hot! Jake’s going to have to ask Dirk and Roxy how they dealt with their kids the same way. Speaking of which, he really did miss them. Their set of twins should be about two now, right? It gave him a weird idea.

“Janey, wake up,” he says, scooting in close, becoming the big spoon.

“Hmm?” she mumbles. “Is it the kids?”

“Well, yes? And no.” He then whispers, “It’s almost eight-thirty.”

“What?” She gasps softly. “Really?” She turns her face to him, glancing at the window behind him. “Did they just sleep through the night?”

“You bet your biscuits they did.”

“It’s a miracle, hoo hoo!” She shifts around to face him.

“I was also thinking,” he says hastily.

“A dangerous pastime.”

“I had a weird idea.” Jane raises an eyebrow. “You know Dirk and Roxy’s kids? They’re twins, too.”

“Okay…”

“I dunno, I was thinking and…”

“You’re not about to suggest something you’ve seen in a movie, have you?”

About a billion movies with similar situations passed through his mind in an instant. “No.” Jane narrows her eyes. “Yeah.”

“This isn’t a movie, and it’s almost the twenty-first century! Nobody except rich people have arranged… marriages… any… more. God, we’re going to become one of those rich families aren’t we?”

“Uh…”

“As long as it’s not someone mother picks, someone to take them out of this life, I’ll be okay with it.” She looks away with her eyes at that, probably thinking about Jade. Jake feels weird about that, too, especially since mother decided it on her own.

“Then the Stri-Londes are perfect, aren’t they?” He widens his eyes in shock. “Shit! No offense to them! Dammit, that was stupid!”

“Shh!”

“Sorry…” He glances behind Jane and waits for the crying to start. It doesn’t.

“We can fantasize it all we want, but do you think they’ll even agree?”

“Or worse: mother doesn’t.”

“Forget mother, we’re adults now. Mother can go away.” Jake can’t argue with that. “For now, we’ll sleep more. We kind of deserve it.”

Jake can’t argue with that, either.

* * *

 

Jane doesn’t register that time has been flying by until their childrens’ first Christmas. They were already crawling very quickly, and they’re set to walk pretty soon. It seemed like only yesterday that they stopped waking up at all hours and the days began to run together. It didn’t help that the weather was almost always cloudy. It was the beginning of December when she dared ask Jake to leave the mansion again.

“Why?” he asks.

Stunned, Jane says, “Because! Don’t we need to find the Stri-Londes?”

“Can’t we do that by not leaving? Do you have their numbers?” he asks eagerly.

“Jake, when we were kids, you wanted to go outside all the time, and now when I request it, you ask  _why?_ ”

“I can’t.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I just can’t.”

“What. Do you mean. By  _can’t_.”

“I… mother, she…” She shushes him, understanding everything. That bitch brainwashed him. This is unacceptable.

“When?”

“When we came back. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t. Just don’t. It’s not your fault.” She takes a deep breath. “I’ll go.”

“You sure?” he asks.

“I’ll get my fork if it makes you happy.” It shouldn’t be bugged anymore since she found all the magnets in their house and stuck them to her smallish weapon at the same time. They’re probably still attached. She hasn’t touched the thing in months.

“Okay.” He looks around the hallway and takes her to their room, closing the door. “The last time I checked, Dirk still worked in the packaging department. It’s on the bottom floor at the base of the mountain.”

“I’ll just get their number and then come back, okay?” Jake nods. “Okay, then.” She turns away and goes to her old room, reaches under her pillow to grab the fork, magnets and all, and proceeds to make her way to the factory.

Since mother is on a business trip to New York City, she doesn’t have to avoid her offices and her room. She finds the secret doors easily, and end up in her mother’s fancy executive office. It’s the same exact door she went through to visit the factory the day she met Roxy. She passes by the massive desk and chairs and opens the large double doors to the factory, where the machinery is as loud as she remembers it when she was sixteen. She finds a manager easily, shoving the forkkind under her shirt in the back.

“Where can I find the packaging department?” she asks.

“Miss Crocker, I didn’t know you were visiting today! Congratulations!” he exclaims, taking off his hard hat and bowing slightly.

Embarrassed, she turns red and asks again.

“Oh, sorry! I just get nervous around royalty.”

“I’m hardly royalty…” she mutters.

“You go down that elevator to the first floor, that whole is basically the same department.” He points behind her and smiles.

“Thank you,” she replies, turning.

The doors open and she presses “1”. Since she was on the twelfth, the trip takes a bit. A few people get in on the way, which makes it slower. Slightly annoyed, she almost taps her foot, but she realizes that since she pressed her button first, they all have to wait for her to get off before they do.

She steps off and finds the nearest hard-hat-wearing person in the wide expanse of the packaging department, who has yellowing skin and a tired disposition. “Excuse me sir, do you know Dirk Strider?”

“Dirk Strider?” He pauses. “Yeah, yeah, he’s right over there, three aisles away, the first guy working tape.” He points and follows his finger. Sure enough, the black tank top and gray baseball cap gives it away. She thanks him and quickly walks away.

“Dirk?” she asks cautiously. He’s turned away, but she recognizes the blond hair stuffed inside the hat.

“Huh?” he asks, turning around. “Jane!” He jumps, ripping off his hat. It immediately spikes back up. “What a surprise! What are you doing here with us common folk?”

“Uhm, I wanted to ask you something…” she asks quietly. His arms are distracting.

“What?”

“Do you and Roxy have a phone?”

Dirk doesn’t answer. Instead, he looks to his boss with uncertainty. He yells over the noise, “Mr. H., I’m going on break!” His boss gives him a thumbs-up. “Let’s talk in the break room.”

* * *

 

Jake paces back and forth by the secret door entrance in the great hall, where they usually have company parties. The red tile floor shines back up at him, perfectly waxed, buffed, and shined. He’s probably wearing a hole through the floor, but he doesn’t care.

Finally, the door in the wall opens and Jane steps in. He speed-walks to her, but she is solemn as she closes the entrance behind her.

“What happened? Did you find them and get their number?” he asks nervously.

“I found Dirk,” she answers quietly.

“Oh, good! Roxy must be at home then.”

“She’s not.”

“What?”

“She’s gone.”

“What?!”

“She left.”

“Oh. Phew, I thought she died!”

“As far as we know.”

Jake doesn’t know how to reply to that.

“Since June. She took Rose and left Dirk and Dave. He knows where she went, he just won’t tell me. He said Roxy wanted it that way.” She falls to her knees, her skin squeaking against the tiles. Jake does the same, and rubs Jane’s back comfortingly.

“Did he say why?” Jane shakes her head and sniffs, wiping her eye under her red glasses.

“I did tell him about our idea, though.”

“What did he say?”

“Well,” she scoffs, “he laughed at first. Then he asked if I was serious and when I said yes, he said he’d think about it.” She reaches for her forkkind. “He wrote his apartment phone number on this thing. He told me he’s renting the house to the cab driver, remember him?”

“Oh yeah, that guy.”

“I guess he thought the house reminded him too much?” She sniffs again. “Anyway, he and Dave are living in the city now, by the water he said. It’s not as close to the factory as the house was, but their nanny is looking after Dave during the day.” She sighs. “Speaking of children, we need to look after our own, don’t we?”

Jake helps her up. “Gadzooks. And yes.”

* * *

 

Mother doesn’t return for another month, missing Christmas and New Year’s. During that time, Jake and Jane take the opportunity to watch the parades and celebrations the rest of the world are having. They’d never seen fireworks up close, but they promised each other they would one day.

Together, they compiled a list of things to show their children in the outside world, and even if they could never leave their mother’s presence for very long, they would make her come with them, maybe using their children as an excuse to get everyone out of the mansion for once.

“Places to go! :B  
“-NYC!  
“-Hawaii?  
“-Disneyland!!!!”

“Things to do,  
“-Spelunking  
“-The newest indiana jones movie in an actual movie theater  
“-Go on a cruise”

“What is this?” mother asks the day she returns. They handed her the list, and she stares at Jane in disbelief.

“Things we want our children to experience,” Jane says. She stands confidently, crossing her arms. If mother doesn’t accept the lists, then she’ll just have to accept the terms. She seems to like both children, so if she wants to make them happy, she will have to follow them anyway.

Mother doesn’t look up from the piece of paper. “What will happen if I don’t succumb to these demands?” Her tone is challenging. Jane prepared for this.

“If we don’t do at least one of them every few years, that’ll be the most often you see your precious heirs.” Jane is their mother, so she uses her own mother’s words against her: “Don’t mothers do what’s best for her children?”

Mother squints her eyes at Jane. She hands the list back to Jane. “Come back tomorrow. I will have some counter-demands for you and Jake to follow. Do we have a deal?”

Jane grits her teeth. “Yes, ma’am.” She takes the list and heads out. Jake’s going to be hopeful as always. That’s all he can do.

* * *

 

“What did she say?” asks Jake, who’s been feeding Jade through a bottle for the last hour. She went through nearly all the bottles of store-bought formula, plus her share of Jane’s breastmilk. “Also, please help.” Babies sure need to eat a lot!

Jane rushes over and takes their baby, who fusses over the lack of bottle in her mouth and cleaves onto her mother’s chest instead. “Young lady, you are going to suck me dry,” Jane chides. Jade whines in response, pulling on the shirt. Jane chuckles and obeys. “We have to go back tomorrow. She will have counter-demands to give us.”

Jake groans. “She’s going to give us things we’re going to regret,”  he exasperates. “But at least we’ll get out of the mansion for once, eh?”

“What I don’t understand is why.”

“Why what?” He sits down on the bed, facing Jane.

“Why would she do everything for our children, but do almost nothing for us?” She shifts Jade in her arms and sits down in the rocking chair between the twin cradles. “We were their ages when she found us, so why did she go soft now?”

Jake wants to think that their mother didn’t want to make the same mistakes she did with them, but it just can’t be that simple. He shrugs. “Maybe Jade made an impression on her?”

“I hope so.” She smiles and looks down at their daughter. “You have our mother wrapped around your little finger,” she says, babytalking.

“She has all of us wrapped around her little finger,” Jake says. He glances at John, who’s been quiet for the entire time. “Except John. She can’t tell him what to do. Do you think it’s the same for him? Are we wrapped around his little finger, too?”

“I would say…” Jane pauses. “Yes. As parents, we have to give them what they need, right?”

“Sometimes what they want.”

“But most of the time what they need.”

“And then what they want?”

Jane squints. “What they need always comes first.”

Jake squints back. “You didn’t say no.”

Jane suppresses laughter with her hand. “We’ll see who’s more stubborn when we go see mother tomorrow. I’m betting my money on mother.”

“Hey!” Suddenly, John starts crying. “Oh, bullocks, I was too loud.” He gets up, bends over the crib, and picks up John to take him back to the bed, squirming the entire way. He lays down on the bed and holds John over his heart, patting his back gently. He seemed to like it this morning, which is how he got to take his nap. It seems to do the trick again, John’s crying getting softer and hiccups replacing the sniffling. He looks over at Jane proudly, pointing with his finger.

“I’m impressed,” Jane says with raised eyebrows. Jade notices and starts rejecting Jane’s boob. “Okay fine, you can go with daddy now.” She gets up and lays Jade down right next to John on top of Jake. Good thing he has room for both of them. He supports both of them and looks at Jane, whose expression is melancholy.

“They’re still so small,” she whispers.

“They’re still only ten months old. Besides, they’ll grow.” He gestures next to him with his head. “There’s room for one more, Janey.”

Jane smiles and joins in, flushing herself next to Jake. She cuddles on her side and drapes an arm behind both babies, not taking her eyes off them.

The next day, it began to rain very hard. It started as soon as they woke up, at eight sharp. John had slept through the night, and Jade was already up, trying to make herself stand in her crib and waving her arms above her head. Jake gets out of bed to see, and it looked like she was swatting at the raindrops that pattered against the window above her bed. Jake shakes his head while smiling and wakes up Jane. They silently get ready, trying to prepare themselves. She insisted going by herself, and when Jake objected, she just told him she’d be fine.

“I’ll be back soon,” she reassures him.

“Good luck, Janey,” he says with a huge smile.

She smiles back and leaves, closing the door softly behind her.

* * *

 

Jane cautiously enters the executive office the correct way, through the front doors, list in hand and ready for combat. Her mother calls, “Enter!” and she obeys.

“I am ready to negotiate,” Jane says, closing the door behind her.

“As am I.” She hands her mother the same paper as yesterday. She takes it and gets out another sheet of paper, typed up instead of handwritten, and places them next to each other. “Hm, yes.” She circles something on Jane’s list. “No.” She crosses off something else from Jane’s list. “No.” Again, from Jane’s. “Yes.” Jake’s list. “Shell no.” Jake’s list. “Ah, here we are.” She shows the edited list to Jane. She circled Hawaii, spelunking, and going on a cruise. She crossed out New York, Disneyland, and the Indiana Jones movie.

“Why not any of those things?” Jane asks, trying to sound as innocent as possible.

“Too many people,” her mother answers shortly. “New York and Disneyland are like that. They’re also dirtier than I like. Their only redeeming quality is the fish market nearby in Massachusetts. I have a property in one of Hawaii’s smaller islands, so you chose that one well.” She sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Going to a movie theater to watch Indiana Jones is out of the question entirely. I will never watch that human again for as long as I live.” She straightens up, folding her hands and looking into Jane’s eyes. “The only reason I accepted the other two was because of the isolocean.”

“The what?”

“Isealation.”

“Oh. But—”

“There’s an old cave in the middle of the country where it is not only isolated, but about to go under as far as finances. I’m looking to buy it for myshellf.” She smirks. “As far as cruises go, I have something much betta.”

“I thought you said you didn’t like—”

“I have a ship.”

“Why have we never seen it?”

“Because it can fly.”

Jane is about to protest, because it sounds scientifically impossible, but her mouth just hangs open. She closes it and grits her teeth again. Despite the alleged “flying ship”, she asks about the other reason she came today. “What are your counter-demands?”

She smirks again. “I thought you’d never ask.” She turns the typed paper around on her desk so Jane can read it. “You may circle three things and cross out three things. Choose wisely.”

On the paper, mother had typed out nine things, not six. “What about the other three?”

“I will choose whether to do them or not. That means when you don’t circle or cross off those things, I may decide never do them at all. But when you do circle things, I know you really,  _really_ want to do those things.”

Jane swallows uncomfortably and reads over the list:

-one infomercial per year, no questions asked  
-all birthdays will be held within the factory and mansion walls, only workers in attendance  
-full custody of both heirs one day a week  
-there will be no formal wedding or honeymoon, only a civil union recognized by the state  
-the heirs will be betrothed to anyone Betty Crocker chooses  
-when out in public, the heirs are to be covered from head to toe to prevent damaging photos  
-the heirs will learn how to swim as soon as possible  
-all medical emergencies will be done at the same hospital the heirs were born in  
-full freedom rights for Jane Crocker and Jake English

She tentatively takes both lists and folds it in half.

“Please discuss them with your partner and return to me by six sharp.” She waves Jane away.

Jane complies, turning and leaving exactly the way she came in. She lets out a breath as soon as the door shuts.

Quietly, she walks up the stairs to the room she and Jake and the children share.

“What happened?” Jake asks, sitting on the bed, facing the door. “You look like someone peed in your pumpkin patch.”

Jane doesn’t have the energy to be appalled at his chosen phrase. “The counter-demands,” she says, handing him the papers.

“All of them?!” he exclaims.

“No, but here’s our list.” She separates them and puts them side-by-side. “She crossed off three, and approved three. We have to do the same. But with the ones we don’t mark, she has full decision rights to do or not do.” She sighs.

“That’s unfair!”

“It’s what we have to pay for our freedom,” Jane says bitterly. “Roxy’s gone, Dirk can’t help us with his own child, that taxi driver probably doesn’t even remember us, and that seedy hotel owner probably closed shop the day we left! We know literally no one outside of this factory! All the workers are so afraid of our mother that they’d be fired if they were found out for helping us! We have two more mouths to feed, and if we’re going to be here until we die, then I’d rather have some choice than no choice.”

Jake looks as if he’s taken aback, then looks at the paper again. “Well, obviously, we cross off the betrothal one.”

“I thought the same thing.”

Jake gestures to the paper. “Uhm… Good gravy, this is hard! How about the last one? Circle or cross out?”

“It’s a trap, I just know it. If we circle it, since it doesn’t have Jade and John in there, it’ll be just us two, and like hell I’m leaving them alone with her. And if we don’t do anything to it, she might force us out anyway.”

“Cross out then?”

“Mm-hmm,” Jane answers reluctantly. Mother sure is a tricky one. “I’m caught between the first and the third, myself.”

“I remember that infomercial you did with mother. I never want you to go through that ever again.”

“But then mother may choose the third one and get full custody of our children once a week and—!”

“Jane! Janey!” he hushes her. “Would that be so bad?”

“Yes!”

“No!”

“Yes!”

“No!”

“Yes!”

“She’ll have to change them herself if she has full custody, right?”

Jane balks at him. “What?!” she roars, standing up suddenly. Both children are still sleeping somehow. She brings down her voice and says, “You would use our children like that? No, they’re people, not weapons!”

“Well, fine! I’m crossing off the infomercial thing because you got to choose the last one.”

She raises both hands and balls them into fists, literally suppressing all of her anger and focusing on trying not to punch his no-good, buck-toothed face. “Jake—!”

He wraps her in a tight hug, succeeding in suppressing her fists from punching his no-good, buck-toothed face. She struggles against him, but he is steadfast. “I’m not going to let her hurt you like that again.” She stops struggling, but she still wants to punch him. “It was my fault she did it, and I promise not to let it happen because of my stupid decisions again.” Her anger subsides a little more. At least the urge to make fist-to-face contact is gone.

“Alright.” He lets go, but still holds the list. She snatches it. “My turn.” She circles the medical care one. She doesn’t trust her mother to choose doctors for them. “Here.”

“Birthdays? That way, we can guarantee that at least one person we like can come.”

“Dirk, right?”

“Who else?”

“You’re right. My turn.” She considers the options that were left. She will never circle the custody one. She’s also fine with the legal relationship she has with Jake now. Sure she fantasized about having a princess-style wedding in a Karl Marx disguise instead of a veil, then kissing the bride by lifting it. The one where they will be covered from head to toe seems a bit extreme, but also a given because of their status. She circles swimming lessons because she sees too many deaths in the news about children falling into pools and drowning. She is curious why mother included it in the first place. Everything that woman does has a reason. She sighs and hands it to Jake. “Do you want to go together?”

“Shucks, buster, would I!”

She nudges him playfully. “That’s my phrase, buster.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's title is brought to you by The Chevin


	24. The Older We Get

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took way too long. I've been working, job-searching, and every excuse you can think of. Basically: depression has settled in for a staycation. I'm not out of the woods yet, but I did make a promise to try to finish this story before the summer was over.

Vriska prepares her ship for the night, checking up on gas, the anchor, etc. before she leaves for the night. It’s Saturday, so the night-owls like herself aren’t the only ones populating the streets at this hour. The sun doesn’t go down quite as early anymore, so it’s maybe nine now and the sun still hangs red over the water. She hears footfalls on the dock behind her.

“Can I come, sis?” Gamzee asks.

“Sure, whatever,” she answers without facing him. “Make sure you don’t sleep in again, because paying your bond last time was a serious waste of money.” Sometimes, this iron just isn’t worth keeping in the fire.

“I ain’t coming back.” Vriska pauses and turns around, still holding the rope that prevents her ship from floating away. She nearly laughs when she sees him in a dress suit that looked like the cover of one of Kankri’s silly vinyls. “My hotel needs me.”

“Didn’t you have like, one customer?” she asks. She helped put a down payment on that thing, which is probably one of the worst decisions she ever made, the second worst was getting Gamzee out of jail. On paper, they’re business partners. In real life… not. “Then they left a mess and didn’t pay you?”

“Yeah,” he answers grimly, dragging out the word. He didn’t say anything else, so she let him aboard. Nobody really knows what’s going on in that thinkpan of his, and Vriska doesn’t want to know, either.

The ride straight to the mainland is a silent one, the sky clear for once, perfect for navigation, just the way she likes it. Gamzee lays down on the deck, staring up at the constellations, eyes darting back and forth like he’s looking for something. The constellations are different here, but still interesting. Gamzee, on the other hand, is a kismesis thief that doesn’t know which way is up most of the time.

They dock at her usual spot and hop out. Gamzee goes in one direction while Vriska goes in hers. She makes her usual killing and heads back to her ship around four in the morning, but something tells her to go to the rendezvous island on the way back. Alone, she sets sail for it. She needs gas anyway, so she stops and gathers her extra gas tanks, then fills up the ship’s tank completely. The restaurant that leaves messages for Kanaya is open at all hours, so she decides to go in there and have something to eat. She plops herself at the bar and orders.

“Could I get some chicken eggs? Sunny-side,” she orders. The waitress takes the order and leaves. Behind her, the doorbells jingle as someone else walks in.

“Good morning, Miss Serket!” the rowdy, middle-aged woman says loudly. Vriska looks back and sees the overweight, red-haired owner of the restaurant in her usual low ponytail. She sheds her coat, leaving her wide-brimmed hat on, and approaches. “I’ve had a message for your friend since yesterday.”

“Oh yeah.” Vriska’s eyes dart up to the hat and back at the woman’s eyes.

“Do you want me to give you the note so she can read it?”

“Sure, hand it over,” she says, offering her hand.

The owner does just that, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a crumpled piece of paper. She can’t read this particular human’s script very well, so she just pockets it and saves it for Kanaya to read when she gets back.

Vriska still feels the human standing close by. She reads her mind and feels the judgment weighing down on her for coming in so early in the morning dressed like a pirate of old. She easily takes control and makes her walk away. She is so sick of being stared at and judged.

* * *

 

“Vriska, how old is this message again?” Kanaya asks. The message was from Roxy and Dirk. They needed to talk, and soon.

“Since yesterday, the woman said,” Vriska answers, yawning. “Feel free to ask Eridan or Feferi to tug the boat for you. I made a killing last night and I’m beat.” Vriska hates when her keys are not returned, so that forces either Eridan or Feferi or both to tug the boat during emergency situations.

“Thank you.”

“Anytime.” Vriska gives Kanaya a brief sidehug around her neck, making them both stumble slightly. She whispers, “If you need a jam sometime, I’m here, remember?” And at that, she leaves. She might have to take her up on that offer soon.

Kanaya finds Eridan busy and Feferi chipper. “Shore, I’ll help you! I’ve been meaning to take Meenah and Cronus out swimming, and this might be a good opportunity!” Kanaya isn’t sure how to feel about that, but as long as they don’t run off, it will be fine. Feferi calls out to them and they come running down the stairs like a couple of miscreants.

“Just to the rendezvous island, I need to make a phone call,” Kanaya clarifies.

Meenah and Cronus exchange glances, which turn from shock to utter deviance in a matter of seconds. They seem to drag both adult trolls out of the house and into the still-icy water. Kanaya is the only one who steps into the boat carefully. Feferi carefully ties the rope so that it makes three loops, one for each swimmer to hold. She hopes it’ll be easier for three than just one. Feferi is quite strong, but she does tire eventually.

“Can we go on land when we get there?” Meenah asks.

“As long as you stay out of trouble, yes,” Kanaya answers sternly.

“What if someone says something about Cronus’s weird jacket?”

“You liked it last night!” Cronus fires back.

“Ew, no!” Meenah yells.

“If either of you start anything, I will filet you both,” Kanaya says angrily. They both balk at her. Feferi continues to fiddle with the plastic ropes.

“Nuh-uh,” Meenah argues after a moment.

“Y-you can’t do that,” Cronus stammers.

Kanaya smirks, pulling her lipstick out of her dress pocket. “Can’t I?” Their eyes follow the lipstick as she takes the cap off and makes her natural black lips even blacker, and even after as she puts it back in her pocket.

“Done!” Feferi exclaims.

“Let’s go, then,” Kanaya says as sweet as she can muster. Despite all the outer sweetness, though, she can’t help but to worry about what had happened to Dirk and Roxy, or even Dave or Rose.

The trip was not uneventful, and about three times as long as is takes for Vriska to pilot. Meenah refused to swim next to Cronus, which was fine because Feferi needed to be at the helm anyway. Cronus refused to let up about swimming faster than Meenah, and sometimes led the boat in the wrong direction. Kanaya had to intervene multiple times because Meenah wouldn’t stop threatening to stab Cronus if he complained about his hair being wet one more time. Finally, they arrive on the rendezvous island and Kanaya leaps out before Feferi can tie the rope to the dock. It doesn’t take her long to get to the restaurant, since it is only a few small buildings away from where they landed.

“Miss Red?” Kanaya calls out after the bells jingle from the glass door. A few patrons turn to see, and she acknowledges them. They smile back and return to their lunches. Miss Red, the woman who runs the establishment, appears from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a cloth.

“Kanaya, darling,” she answers, shoving the cloth in her denim pocket and leaning over the bar counter. “How are you today?”

“I am fine, thank you,” Kanaya replies. “I apologize, but there is an urgent matter I need to attend to. Would it be alright to—”

“No need to ask. Go ahead.” She gestures to the phone in its usual place and returns to the kitchen. Kanaya calls out a quick thank-you before rushing to the rotary phone. She enters the number hastily, trying not to waste time calling the wrong places.

“Hello?” an unfamiliar voice says. Kanaya hangs up immediately, positive she had the right number memorized. She calms herself down, still trying not to imagine the worst. She dials again, more carefully this time, and the same person answers. “Listen, as much as I love a good prank call myself, I was about to go to work, so please indulge me in your shenanigans and I will then commence to make you a cake if your gambit is as great as mine.” Kanaya almost hangs up again, but also tries to stifle a laugh.

“Pardon me, sir, but I am looking for either Dirk Strider or Roxy Lalonde,” she explains. “Are any of them there?”

“Ah, yes, sorry about that,” the man laughs. “I get prank calls a lot, so you can imagine I come up with the greatest of return-fires. They have graciously let me rent out their home. They’re my landlords.”

“I see,” Kanaya breathes, dejected. Was she too late? “Do you have another number so I can contact them?”

“As a matter of fact,” things shuffle around in the background on his end, “I have Dirk’s number here. Do you have a pen?”

Kanaya looks around, scanning the bar. A server had left a pen two stools away, so she reaches over and grabs that and a napkin. “Ready.” He gives her the number and slides the pen away. “Might I ask what happened to them?”

“Well, what Roxy—I mean Ms. Lalonde told me was that she was growing tired of the town, so she and Dirk packed up and left.” That is very strange, especially for Roxy. Kanaya was positive that Roxy was satisfied with the town and their arrangement. Perhaps something had happened at work? Another pressing matter: was this man at a loss for words over her? She aches to know more, but all in good time.

“Do you know where they moved to? And when?”

“Just two days ago. And I can’t say that I do, ma’am,” he says apologetically. What’s a “ma’am”?

“Thank you very much, sir,” Kanaya sighs.

“You’re very welcome.”

What a strange man, she concludes. She dials Dirk’s number after she disconnects from the other number. The phone rings and rings for a long time. After three whole minutes, someone finally answers, but doesn’t say anything.

“Hello?” Kanaya says.

“Naya!” a child’s voice cries out in delight. Dave?! How is he answering the telephone?

“Dave, is this you?” she asks, shocked.

“Naya!” he says again.

“Dave, what are you doing?” she asks in her high pitch that she only speaks in when she is around the Stri-londe children. She doesn’t care that she’s embarrassing  herself in public. “Where is your guardian?!”

“Bo?”

“Yes! Where did he go?”

“Bath.”

“Bathroom?”

“Bath!”

“Oh, you mean the bath!” she laughs. “Thank you! What about Rose? Is she there?”

“Ro.” He sniffles. She can hear the sobs developing over the phone.

“Oh, Dave! Shh, it’s okay, hush,” Kanaya says in a soothing voice. It works for the time being. She listens carefully and hears heavy footfalls in the background.

“Dave, are you playing with the phone again?” Dirk.

“Dirk! Hello!” Kanaya shouts. She turns to the other patrons in the room, and it turns out she had accumulated quite a few stares.

“Hello? Roxy?” Dirk asks expectantly. Why would he be so eager to hear from Roxy?

“Sorry to disappoint,” Kanaya snides.

“Oh, Kanaya, hey,” he says stiffly. “Sassy as ever, I see.”

“What happened? Why didn’t you tell me you were moving?”

“Meet me where we interviewed you. Come alone if you can. Can’t talk about it over the phone.” And at that, he hangs up on her.

Kanaya’s jaw falls slack at the suddenness of being hung up on, and puts the phone back on the set, scoffing lightly. She tries to ignore the stares of the people around her as she gets up carefully and walks out of the building. If she remembers correctly, the place where she and Karkat met them was a café shop near the water. The next ferry leaves in about half an hour, so she hurries back to the docks to tell the others.

“Feferi?” she calls out as soon as she sees the boat. Feferi’s head pops out from behind one of the benches of the boat. She gestures Kanaya to be quiet with a single filange. Oh, no. Kanaya rushes to the boat.

“We’re playing hunt and seek,” Feferi whispers. Kanaya resists all urges to slap her palm to her forehead. Her resistance fails her, however, and she does it anyway.

“They are not playing anymore,” Kanaya says, monotone. Why does this always happen when Kanaya’s back is turned? Her resistance to slap Feferi’s forehead holds fast. “I have to go to the main land, so you need to go look for them. They are somewhere on the island, and unfortunately, my urgent matter cannot wait.”

“What do you mean by ‘not here’?” Feferi asks, straightening herself up. She looks confused, and Kanaya determines that the seadweller is truly ignorant on the matter.

“Feferi, please do not take this the wrong way, but they tricked you.”

“They what?!” Feferi yells, standing up too quickly. The boat nearly tips over, and Kanaya reaches out to steady Feferi, but she rejects the help. “How dare they!”

“Feferi, are you alright?” The reaction seemed a little violent.

“Those conch-cleavers won’t be once _I’m_ done with them!” She cracks her knuckles and steps out of the boat, then storms away. Kanaya follows warily.

“One last thing!” Feferi stops and lets Kanaya finish. “Once you find them, you can go home. I expect that I will be gone until Vriska returns  for her work tonight.”

Feferi’s expression softens for a moment. “Are you okay by yourshellf?”

“I’ll be fine.” Kanaya smiles, and Feferi smiles back. As she leaves, Kanaya gets the feeling that this might not have been such a good idea, letting the young ones on land so soon, especially ones as mischievous as Meenah and Cronus. She swallows dryly and heads to the ferryboats.

* * *

 

“Stop following me!” Meenah yells.

“Do you ewven know vwhere vwe are?” Cronus asks.

“Shut up and go back to the dock! I want to find Karkat!” Meenah is going to search high and low for him, and she isn’t going to stop until she succeeds!

“Karkat?!” Meenah turns to the annoying one. “Is that vwhy you ditched Fef?”

“You ditched her, too! And stop talkin’ like that! You sound like a dumb bass.” She passes a restaurant and peers through the large, glass windows. A boatload of people are sitting on tall stools, but they’re not even eating, they’re all drinking colored liquid. Meenah, of course, prefers water. There ain’t nothin’ more awesome than water.

“Vwell, fine! You look like a little kid with your hair like that! It’s like that mowvie with the little girl and the dog and the red shoes: all vwe need is Meulin to be the dog, Kankri to be the scarecrowv, Horuss as the metal man, and Mituna as the lion, but they don’t—”

“ _Vwill_ ya shut up!” She likes her hair just the way it is! She didn’t get it from some human movie. She moves on to another building, this time with less windows and some people getting their hair did. “Are you supposed to be in it, then?”

“Of course! I’m the The Vwizard.”

There was no power in the world, not even Karkat, that could have prevented Meenah from punching Cronus square in the face just then. He goes down, flat on his bass, holding his snout tenderly with two hands.

“Fugh!” he yells. “By doze! Beedah, vwhy?”

“Ya not a wizard, ya weirdo. Ya need to know when to shut up sometimes.” She turns away looking in the window again. “Do waterever ya want. I feel better now after punchin’ you in tha fuckin’ face.”

“Fide! Do what you wadt!” He storms off. What a codfish.

She searches every single building along the boardwalk after that, but no Karkat. When she doubles back the way she comes, she runs into Kanaya. “Can we go home now?”

“Where’s Cronus?” she asks.

“I dunno,” Meenah says, shrugging. “I kinda punched him in the face and then he went that way.” She points behind her, but then she remembers that there aren’t anemone more buildings for Cronus to hide behind, because she just came from there. Before Meenah can smack herself in the forehead, she feels her fins getting pulled from both sides.

“What did I tell you about running off?!” Kanaya half yells, half shrieks. _Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!_ “I told you to stay in the boat!” The pain is suddenly gone and she is embraced around her shoulders. This is embarrassing. “I know you are almost five, but you cannot just trick Feferi and go off on your own.”

“I was with Cronus,” Meenah tries to reassure the hysterical adult, “And what are you, my lusus? I wanna go home.” She pushes past Kanaya and starts towards where she thinks the pier is. She doesn’t need the stupid boat anyway. They tugged  the thing to get here, and Feferi is plenty strong enough to do it on her own. Besides, it was her and Meenah that did all the work anyway! It’s not like Cronus needs the training or anything, either. He just doesn’t like pulling his own weight much.

“Meenah, why are you doing this?”

“Ain’t it obvious?” She turns to her sea-called guardian and smirks. “I’m tryin’a find Karkat.” With a flip of her braid, she keeps walking away.

“Oh?”

“Oh, what?”

“Where will you live?”

“In tha ocean.” Duh.

“Not all of this planet is islands and water. Land extends much farther inland, I assure you.”

Meenah slows and waits for Kanaya to catch up. “I don’t believe you. You’ll have to show me some time.”

“Tell you what, I’ll take you when you’re older.”

Meenah halts, thrusting her fists downward. “Ya always say that! But when?!”

Kanaya pauses, thinking. This betta be a good answer. “Humans say that their children should be old enough to live on their own at age eighteen.”

“But—!”

“But, you are a troll, and the human equivalent age is about eight-and-a-half.”

Oh. Meenah smiles, showing off her sharp teeth. She’s already halfway there.

“So, when that time comes, I will take you and all the others to see the world, alright?” Kanaya stretches out her hand. Meenah has only heard rumors about handshakes on Alternia. They’re meant to be like blood oaths, she thinks. Unbreakable promises that if broken, end in a culling. Meenah takes Kanaya’s hand and shakes it excitedly.

“Can this be for everyone else, too?”

“One step at a time, Meenah. Don’t push it,” she says, taking out her lipstick and putting some on. Meenah totally forgot about that magnificent lipstick-chainsaw thing. She lets go and keeps walking towards the boat. “Oh, I must add, too, Feferi has already found Cronus and is waiting at the ship for us.”

She squints at Kanaya, then looks down, rubbing her fins tenderly. “Hmmph.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's title brought to you by: Skillet.


	25. We've Got Elastic Hearts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one kind of starts out awkwardly because it's a continuation of the last chapter (a case of planning gone horribly wrong by the passage of time).

“Ain’t it obvious?” She turns to face Kanaya, smirking. “I’m tryin’a find Karkat.” Something constricts in her blood pusher, and with a flip of a braid, Meenah keeps walking away.

Kanaya’s eye twitches, then she puts on her ugliest, most prideful persona. Meenah needs more discipline that Kanaya has been providing, apparently. “Oh?”

“Oh, what?”

“Where will you live?”

“In tha ocean.”

“Not all of this planet is islands and water. Land extends much farther inland, I assure you.”

Meenah slows down. Kanaya catches up quickly. “I don’t believe you. You’ll have to show me some time.”

Kanaya knows where this is going. She has no choice but to give it to her, if only for a few years of obedience. “Tell you what, I’ll take you when you’re older.”

The small troll suddenly stops and turns to yell, “Ya always say that! But when?!”

Kanaya pauses, feigning to deeply consider her query. The snark seems to flow naturally as she explains exactly what Roxy told her about human children and adults. “Humans say that their children should be old enough to live on their own at age eighteen.”

“But—!”

“But, you are a troll, and the human equivalent age is about eight-and-a-half.”

Realization hits Meenah, and she smiles like she came up with the idea herself.

“So, when that time comes, I will take you and all the others to see the world, alright?” Kanaya stretches out her hand to Meenah, who takes immediately.

“Can this be for everyone else, too?”

Kanaya squints. “One step at a time, Meenah. Don’t push it,” she says, taking out her lipstick, reapplying. As she turns, she says, “Oh, I must add, too, Feferi has already found Cronus and is waiting at the ship for us.”

“Hmmph.”

Kanaya smiles. One problem solved. Countless more to go.

* * *

 

“Ah-KLEBLTH!” Karkat sneezes. Sweet fuck, he hates being allergic to everything he touches. He and Sollux managed to get another job, but this time, they are in custodial management at a movie theater. In other words, they scrub toilets. It’s not the most noble or clean, but it’s work. It’s also starting to get hot. Sollux is fine, but Karkat is roasting about one-hundred percent of the time that he goes outdoors.

“Hey, thlowpoke!” Sollux shouts from behind. Karkat turns, his almost-kismesis trailing by about ten feet. He’s not waiting. He walks faster. He keeps pushing the mop bucket away. He’s getting out of this trash dump on time for once, and he did spectacularly today. No children threw candy at his head today, there was no discharge on the male urinals for once, and the new box office worker looked like Kanaya, so it was almost kind of better than usual. Another plus: he didn’t talk to himself out loud at all, pretending his dead friends can still hear him.

“No.”

“I’ll rathe you to the clothet.”

“Sure, why not? I’m sure you have other work to squander.”

“The one time I try to have fun, you have to go and shit on me. Gee, thankth, KK.”

“I’m actually having a good day, believe it or not, and I’m getting done on time today. So please, don’t ruin it.”

“Fine, I won’t call you a fun-shitter!” He is way too loud, and people start to give them dirty looks while leading their small children away. Any one of these patrons could report them and get them fired, so he continues to ignore Sollux until they get back to the storage room.

“If you do that again and we get fired, I’m going to kill you.”

“Fine.” Sollux mutters something else.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” He mumbles it again.

“Sollux.”

“What?”

“I’m right here, I know you said something.”

“I didn’t thay nothin’.” He then mumbles it a third time, and Karkat could have sworn it sounded like “nooksniffer”.

“I could be hearing things, but it sounded like you said ‘nooksniffer’.”

“I thaid nothing of the thort.”

“What _did_ you say, then?”

Sollux smiles like he just thought of the most hilarious joke in the entire world. “I thaid nook _thniff_ er.”

“How is that any fucking different than what I just said?” Karkat should have known. Well, two can play at this game.

Sollux sighs. “Forget it.”

“Oh wait, I know!”

“Here he goeth.” Sollux tries to ignore him by getting his own mopping bucket and filling it up.

“You’re making fun of yourself! Terezi used to do that same shit…” Oh, fuck.

“Can you not?”

It’s Karkat’s turn to sigh in a frustrated manner. He’s gone this long without talking about Terezi with Sollux, because he gets really emotional whenever her name gets thrown around, so Karkat tries not to talk about her much, more out of fear of being roasted alive than respect. He really wants to talk about these things with Sollux, but he just becomes a brick wall whenever she’s brought up.

One of these days, Karkat is going to walk right up to Sollux, thrash him about the head and shoulders, and yell, “Enough mourning, buldge-licker! She’s dead!”

“Not today,” Karkat mutters.

“Juth go home,” Sollux says right before he leaves with a fresh batch of soapy water and a semi-dirty mop. “I’m sure you’re needed there more than I am.”

“Are you going to start this shit again?”

“No. I’m going to continue working and not be bothered. Thank you, goodbye. We’re not talking about thith.”

That does it. “Yes we are! I have been waiting years to say this, and now I will!” Sollux walks away, still silent. “But first I have to say that you’re my best friend! I’m just like you: I don’t have anyone else to talk to about this shit. By some twist of fate or whatever, this bed was made for us, and now we have to sleep in it.”

“Why ith everything you thay tho awkward?”

Fucking dankriding… “That’s not the point, and you know it!”

“I thought you didn’t want to get fired.”

Karkat yanks the back of Sollux’s collar. “What was it you said to me when we were in deep space?” More silence, so Karkat continues. “You said that if Aradia died, you’d be just like me. All alone. I’m just saying that we don’t have to be alone anymore.”

“You forget that I altho thaid another thing.” Sollux turns towards Karkat angrily, threatening to stab him in the throat with the dull end of a floor-wiping device. Karkat gulps. “According to Alternian law, I have every right to kill you. A little thing my _moirail_ taught me the day we met.” His friend lowers the mop. “Unfortunately, we’re not on Alternia anymore, and I need to get back to work.”

Karkat lets him go, feeling defeated. Sollux only ever gets angry when he talks about Terezi, and now that it’s the only think Karkat wants to talk about, things are getting tense. He looks to his left and sees a movie poster with the human versions of Troll Sandra Bullock and Troll Bill Pullman, where the girl makes believe that she is Troll Peter Gallagher’s matesprit after saving his life, but she can’t fool TPG’s moirail, for whom she breaks all laws of the quadrants and at the end goes for TBP’s matespritship instead, but it all works out in the end because TSB kills TPG so that she can be with TBP, and in usual romcom style, TBP is okay with it and they pail just in time. Or something. He probably got that ending wrong. Humans here usually aren’t that okay with murder over red feelings. Whatever the ending, Karkat’s thoughts go back to his current situation, in which nothing similar is happening except for who he wants in his quadrants, as usual. He shakes his head violently.

He goes to the break room, where his time card is waiting for him, and clocks out. He passes by another poster, where the human versions of Troll Alicia Silverstone forces trolls into quadrants that they don’t know they want to be in yet, and it functions well until the black interest Troll Paul Rudd moves in with TAS and her lusus (who is played by a human in this movie for some ungodly reason), and begins to see TPR as both a black and red interest, and has to decide between the two, not to mention Troll Stacey Dash and Troll Brittany Murphy are having quadrant issues of their own, including TBM wanting to pursue a red relationship with another lowblood instead of the highblood TAS picked out for her, and TSD rotating between black and red with her already-established red interest Troll Donald Fasion (which ends in red, which is extremely cliché for Karkat’s taste), and when a new red interest for TAS, the flamboyantly-bulge-inclined Troll Justin Walker ignores her every attempt, she decides he isn’t needed and kills him, then asks for TPR to help her clean the mess, in which she finally realizes she has red feelings for him, not black, and then fixes everything with off-screen buckets and recants her abilities as a quadrant-matcher, and telling everyone that they can be in whatever quadrant they want with whoever they want. Karkat has seen both troll and human versions countless times, thanks to the free showings that the theater provides, and he much prefers the human version. This movie also brings him to his own quadrants. On one hand, he is developing the absolute worst blackrom with Sollux, who only hates Karkat platonic. He wants Sollux to know that it’s okay to hate him, because the way Karkat’s been treated, he’s beginning to hate the mustardblood, too. He also wants to show that he can move on from Terezi, and that Sollux should, too. Karkat doesn’t want to admit it, but he’s becoming exactly like the role Troll Alicia Silverstone plays in that movie. He can think of a couple suggestions back on the island, both for Sollux and himself—

Realization hits Karkat like a flying bucket: grossly and instantaneously.

They need to return to the island.

* * *

 

Kanaya gets to the café just in time. She has been walking quite fast, trying to conserve her energy by not running. She nearly walks into Dirk as he is walking out of the establishment, angled lenses and his usual white polo and grey hat.

“Kanaya, good,” he says shortly. “Follow me,” he orders, walking away.

She follows him, but not without some orders of her own. “I demand to know why you are being so secretive.”

“As soon as we get there, I’ll tell you everything. We just need to get there without being followed.” He never even looked her way. She’s not sure whether to ask why or to obey. She sighs, reluctantly following anyway. The time is just after five, and people fill the streets in rather large numbers.

“Alright. I have no choice but to trust you, then.” She hopes her sarcasm would reach him, but he seems to be ignoring her words and focusing on the mission. “Did you hear me just now?”

“No choice but to trust me. If you were trying to be sarcastic, I couldn’t tell.” Kanaya blinks in surprise, and keeps up with him. He’s going faster, like he is being hunted down by some sinister power. “And believe it or not, I can actually pay attention to two things at once. Three things is where it gets a little fuzzy. Right now I’m trying to get us to a safer destination, preferably away from that building on the mountain. You might not think it’s relevant, but it is.”

“Are you asking me to keep quiet for the time being?”

“In so many words, yes. I hate walking this slow, and I need to keep you within arm’s reach, especially in this crowd.” She could swear he muttered something about hating crowds after that.

“I could walk faster if you like.”

“That won’t be necessary, actually.” He glances behind him, then at her, then nods to the alley. She understands and sidesteps into it. “Because now we can do this.” Before she can ask, the ground disappears underneath her and she is being carried in Dirk’s arms, traveling through the masses like he did this all the time. She doesn’t even have time to breathe until he gently puts her back on her feet an indeterminable distance later. “Now we can talk.”

She takes in her surroundings, staggering to her full height. They are at a water front park, and there is no one else for a few hundred feet. It certainly seems isolated enough. She turns to him and asks, “How did you do that?”

“Practice. I taught Dave, too.”

“That explains everything.” The first night with Dave acting like he had the ability to crawl at super speeds was now officially explained. “Can Rose do that as well?”

“No, she was more interested in the dark throes than superhuman abilities.”

“I figured it was not normal for humans to be that way.”

“Honestly, it’s not normal for infants to pick up on reading at the level that she does, either.” He looks out to the water. “But I wouldn’t know. Roxy might have her doing her taxes for all I know.”

Kanaya pretends to understand what those are and proceeds with her inquiries. “What happened?”

Dirk sighs. “It all started a year ago, when some friends came to visit. Last July, to be specific. They were running away from home,” he points to the mountain behind him, “way up there, for reasons. We never saw them again after that. We still haven’t seen them. I haven’t, anyway. Roxy and I worked there, so we started asking around. My boss was a dead-end, but Roxy’s boss was the head honcho herself, Betty Crocker.”

“That sure is impressive.” Kanaya had no idea Roxy was that important at a simple baking company.

“I have no liking for that woman, but Roxy wanted to keep their relationship, which was basically one part professional and two parts fear. Fear for herself and fear for our new family.” He checks his watch, then goes back to his story. “A few months later, nine to be exact, we come to find out that our friends had borne twins, just like we had.”

“Why nine months exactly?” she asks.

He turns, knitting his eyebrows together. “Nine months? You know, for…” He pauses, scanning her face, then relaxes, like he just remembered something. “Forget it.”

“I apologize. Keep going.”

He takes a deep breath. “Anyway, we tried to see them while they were in the hospital, but no dice there, either. They came secretly, then they went secretly. Not even the paparazzi could get any credible information.”

“They are famous, then?”

“It’s Betty fucking Crocker, of course they’re famous! Home grown right here in Seattle, Washington, America. I don’t eat the products myself, but most of the world does. Roxy and I think she’s an alien.” He chuckles, trying to brush it off as a joke or conspiracy, but Kanaya joining in with awkward laughter of her own shows that he actually believed it. He clears his throat and continues. “In any case, Roxy and I got into many an argument about going after them and saving our friends and their children. I told her that we should keep to our own and resort to sending letters like she had done in the past, but then she argued that things have changed, that there are children involved.”

Kanaya always knew Roxy was protective over her own children, and it would make sense she would care for others, too. “But are they in danger?”

“I don’t know. I saw the silly infomercial they released, but didn’t think anything of it. Roxy saw it and went ballistic.”

“What happened then?”

“Same old story: If you don’t agree with me, then we should live separately.”

“Oh,” Kanaya breathes. No wonder she hadn’t been called recently. They had so much to deal with on their own. “Where’s Roxy now?”

“About three months ago, she just left. I don’t know where she went.” Dirk clenches his jaw, looking down at the rope barrier that separated the cement from the water below. “I mean, it’s not like we were married or anything. And I can’t just press charges against someone who uprooted her entire life for me just because she wanted to protect our kids! She should have at least taken Dave so I wouldn’t be reminded of a life with her _every_ _goddamned day!_ ”

Kanaya puts a hand on his shoulder, attempting to comfort him. She can see he’s trying to hold back tears and that his face is turning red. This reminds her of all the problems she and Vriska went through, what they had to sacrifice to keep living normal lives. It also reminds her of Karkat, who left without a word, said nothing after that, and didn’t even take a single memory with him. Now she’s left with roaming the mansion, everything reminding her of their time together, being a family. “I understand. Karkat did the same thing a few months ago.”

“Did he now?” he scoffs. He sniffs, wiping his snout with the back of his hand, then wiping the hand on his black pants. “What an asshole.”

Kanaya laughs softly. “Only sometimes.”

“Thank you, Kanaya.”

“It’s no problem.” She smiles at him, and he back at her. They look out to the water, the sun turning a more yellow-orange. It must be nearly six now.

“To finish off, pardon my expression, it’s been tough. I rented out the house we used to live in, which is now owned by a guy who really likes cake and wearing silly ties and drives a taxi for a living. Roxy recommended me to him apparently, because the morning she left, he called me asking it I had a place to rent. That’s when shit hit the fan for me, and after a while, I moved back to an apartment in the city. I can afford it, thanks to my meager salary and him paying rent to me. The elderly couple next door to me have been kind enough to watch Dave while I’m at work, but the husband died suddenly yesterday, and the wife can’t walk very well on her own so she has to move, which is why I was so desperate to contact you again.” He turns her to face him. “Would you come back to us? Please? I can’t pay you as much, but I would really appreciate it.”

Kanaya shakes her head with an understanding smile. “You should have asked me sooner.”

Immediately after she agreed, he embraced her in a hug around her shoulders, thanking her over and over. She shooshes him and tells her to put her down, and he does.

“I can start tonight.” She will tell everyone the good news when she gets home later tomorrow.

“Good. Great! Awesome. Dave will definitely be happy to see you.”

* * *

 

Nepeta crouches next to her descendant on a tree overlooking the dock where Vwiskers inspects her boat for dents or scratches. Fur was going to fly if Kanaya, Fefurry, Meenah, and Cronus brought it back with a single hitch. Kanaya didn’t come back, so Nepeta assumes that was done on purrpuss.

“If you’re going to watch me like a creep, at least take off your bright blue tail!” Vriska shouts to the sky.

Nepeta tilts her head to the side. Nepeta wasn’t wearing her tail today. She looks at Meulin, who shouldn’t have been, but is wearing her tail. Nepeta takes the small troll in one arm, like Equius used to do to Nepeta, and Meulin squeaks. “Meulin can’t wear her tail while she’s hunting!” she scolds lightly.

“But Meulin likes to!” Meulin answers loudly.

“Nepeta said to wear her tail while she’s hunting, not spying!”

“Meulin thought Nepeta said ‘hunting’,” Meulin says tearfully.

“It’s okay, Meulin,” she says, hugging Meulin normally. The smaller troll wraps her legs around Nepeta’s middle. “Hang on tight, we’re going fur a ride!”

“Whee!” Nepeta leaps from branch to branch, tree to tree, all the way down to the ground, landing on all four paws. She was going to add a flip, but she had Meulin, and Nepeta didn’t want to drop such purrecious cargo.

“Nepeta!” Vriska calls as Nepeta is about to walk away. She rolls her eyes and turns to Vwiskers.

“Yes, Vwiskers?” Nepeta answers in a cute voice.

“Don’t call me that,” Vriska sneers. Nepeta pouts. “Don’t pout, either! I’m going to work. Feferi is busy punishing the younglings, so I actually need you today.”

“And why can’t Gamzee or Eridan help?”

“Gamzee does what he can, when he can. He just won’t be around for a while yet. And Eridan is helping Feferi.”

“This was so much easier with Karkitty and Pawllux around,” Nepeta mumbles.

“I’ll tell him you called him that when he comes back,” Vriska laughs.

“He’s not coming back!” Nepeta fires. She’s just as devastated as Kanaya was when he left. The only difference was that Nepeta actually cried in front of everyone else. Kanaya isn’t weaker or stronger for keeping it private. Nepeta still cries from time to time.

“How do you know he won’t?”

“How do you know he will!”

“I have my irons, remember?”

“That doesn’t mean anything, _Vwiskers_.”

Vriska squints her eyes. “Fine then. You go on doing what you’re doing. He might come back, he might not. Only time will tell when it comes that that guy.”

“He’s purrobably too stubborn to come back.”

“That is _certainly_ a possibility.” The ceruleanblood unties her boat, leaping onto it promptly after.

Fur once, Nepeta hopes Vriska is right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title brought to you by: Sia, The Weekend, and Diplo


	26. Cut, Therefore Damaged

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first time writing black SolKat. Nothing explicit, just heavy implications and a dash of rue.

“No.”

“Sollux.”

“KK.”

“Come on!”

“Why?”

“Because I said so.”

“Because you sthaid stho?” He tries not to lisp. It’s hard, but listening to Karkat try to reason with Sollux’s stubborn asshattery is twice as much. He’s trying to get them back to the island, which is basically a poorhouse, at least since he’d been there last, because there wasn’t much electricity or heat. It was four walls, but that’s it. Sollux doesn’t care to return for other reasons as well. They plague his mind endlessly. “What are you, my lusus?”

“I’m not going to dignify that with a response.” Sollux rolls his eyes and walks off, pushing up his sunglasses and grabbing a towel so he can shower. He’s been working all day and Karkat was waiting for him as soon as he walked in the door. “We need to go back. We have to!”

“You have exactly two theconds to tell me why I should return to that plaith.” His hand is on the door, ready to slam it as soon as the two seconds was up.

“It’s all we fucking have! It’s the only place we belong on this hilariously primitive planet!”

“Time’th up.” He slams the door in Karkat’s face, promptly locking it.

Karkat bangs on the door twice. “What are you so afraid of, Sollux?! Huh? What is your goddamn problem!”

Sollux opens the door so fast, it rebounds against the wall, the knob making a dent in it. “I’ll tell you why!” He shoves Karkat back with the palm of his hand. “It’s _because_ it’th the only plaith we belong! We don’t belong on Alternia, which is why we fucking left, and all my friends are dead, tho—”

“Okay, I’ve had about enough of your self-indulgent I’m-so-oppressed bullshit!” Karkat yells, pushing back with two hands and making Sollux drop the towel. “You’re so caught up in the past, you can’t even see what the fuck is going on around you! Believe me, I miss her too, and I’ve never really had a great moirail so I don’t really know how that feels, but I got over it just enough to pick myself up and move on!”

“Oh,” Sollux says under his breath. He understands everything now. It’s all so clear. “I get it.” Everything makes sense now. “There’th thomeone elth.”

“W-what?” Karkat stammers. “Well—”

“So you’re not denying it?” he glowers.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Sollux scoffs. “You’ve developed red feelings for thomeone elth.” He drops his voice an octave. “That’th why you’ve moved on tho fatht.”

“That’s ridiculous. She’s been dead three years.”

“You’ve already athimilated, too!”

“Shut the fuck up and listen to me!” Karkat gets in his face, a couple inches shorter, but not as thin as Sollux. His irises had turned completely red, revealing his blood color, and revealing just how emotionally compromised he is right now. “I don’t have red feelings for _anyone_ right now!” Then he grunted, like he was about to say something and held it back last minute.

“What?” Sollux demands. “What were you going to thay?”

“No, no, forget it! Take your water shower, you spoiled imbecile.” He turns away, apparently giving up. One side of Sollux tells him to let Karkat go fuck himself or whoever he has feelings for.

“At leath you have prosthecth!” Sollux snaps. Karkat ignores the comment, sitting on his bed and picking up the free book the hotel supplies every room. “You probably have feelings for a certain jade-blood.” At that, Karkat turns to glare. Sollux knows he’s hit a nerve. “Yeah, we all thaw how you two looked at each other. Hell, even NP hath red feelingth for you, but you don’t even notith because you were tho busy making goo-goo eyes at KN!”

Karkat gets up from his bed quickly, storming back to Sollux. “Don’t you fucking talk about her like that. And I do not!”

“Now who’s the imbethile?” Sollux crosses his arms. He has the upper hand, he’s pretty sure.

“You really want to know, huh?!” Karkat is turning red.

“I’m going to find out anyway, tho why don’t you go ahead and—” Wait. “No.”

“You asked for it.” He bares his teeth and Sollux does the same.

“Fuck.”

“That’s the idea, asshole.”

* * *

 

Black feelings are complicated. There’s the hate, which everyone abuses, then there’s the rivalry, which everyone ignores. Right now, Karkat only wants to win. Unfortunately, by the end of the night, the entire room is in complete shambles and the neighbors, especially the ones with children, are complaining. By the time Karkat wakes up completely, the sun is up and infiltrating the room. Shit, he forgot to close the blinds when he got back. He untangles himself from the sheets, and from foreign limbs and closes the blinds. He takes one look at Sollux and facepalms. He can’t believe he did that. Now things are complicated.

He fumbles over to the bathroom in the dark and closes the door behind him. Turning on the light, he sees that he’s covered in red spots. He’s never been in a black relationship before, and this is probably what he has to get used to if they want to continue. He leans into his reflection and see that he’s gotten himself a shiner and a slightly busted lip, too. He sighs and just steps into the shower, wondering how he’s going to explain himself to Kanaya if they get back to the island anytime soon.

Wait, no. “Fuck!” he yells, his voice echoing on the tiles. “This is not how I pictured this morning would go.” Good thing he has the day off of work. Unfortunately, Sollux doesn’t work today, either. Karkat turns on the shower. “Today is going to suck,” he mumbles.

“You okay, KK?” Karkat jumps about five feet.

“Go away!” he yells back.

“Okay, fine. Damn.” Sollux pads away.

Karkat lets out a breath of relief and steps into the shower, scrubbing himself of the evidence of last night, most of it yellow, and some of it red, mixing into an organ-churning orange-brown color on the tile floor. He’s used to teal. “What do I do now, Terezi?” he whispers, leaning against the clean-ish wall of the very small shower. It’s colder that he expected, so he straightens up immediately, muttering curses.

Karkat steps out to a foggy mirror, somewhat happy not to see his own fucking face. He’s pretty sure he got everything. He dries off and wraps the towel around his waist, grabbing a dish towel for his hair because he just doesn’t give a fuck right now. He opens the door to see Sollux standing there, covered in yellow splotches himself. Karkat nearly shoots right through the ceiling.

“Shit!”

“No need to be like that, geez.” Amused, Sollux scoffs lightly, brazenly pushing his naked self past Karkat. “Get out of the way, I’m filthy.” He let him pass. The door closes and locks. Like Karkat is going to barge in there. Fat lot of good it did him last night. How the hell is he so chipper? Yes, for Sollux, that is in fact “chipper.”

Now the problem is getting him to come back to the island.

He has to make a phone call.

He goes over to the phone, hand hovering over the receiver. Come on, Karkat, grab the phone. He lets his hand drop on it. Cautiously, he wraps his fingers around it and dials the number.

“Y’ello, Miss Red’s Diner, how may I serve you?” The woman on the other end is definitely Miss Red, her accent shining through like a searchlight in total darkness. Karkat almost hung up at the sound of her voice. “Hello?”

“Miss Red? It’s Karkat.”

“Well, hello there, stranger! Long time no see, how’s everything?”

“Good, great, listen…”

* * *

 

Kanaya cannot believe how cool the air is in the summer. Summer months are the best, she thinks, because they are the warmest. Nowhere near as hot as Alternia was, but that is why she appreciated the sun all the more. The mainland didn’t have nearly as much sun as the island, either.

Nepeta had been more distant than usual lately. Ever since Gamzee left about a week ago, Kanaya has not heard nary more than a purr from the troll. She wonders if Vriska said anything to her. Someone who’s also been distant lately was the mother grub. Kanaya wondered if she had eaten something bad and was just sleeping it off, since it was normal for a lusus her age to sleep for weeks at a time, but something about this particular hibernation activity worried her. She should tend to her sooner rather than later. She needs to make sure that the behavior isn’t due to a bad batch of genetic material, which no one seems to have taken advantage of yet.

And then, as if queued for this moment, Nepeta comes up to Kanaya with a determined look on her face.

“Nepeta? What happened? Are you alright?” Kanaya asks.

“He’s coming back,” she says shakily.

Her first instinct was a certain stubby-horned troll that left months ago.

“Vriska said that he might soon, anyway. Nepeta isn’t one to spurread rumors, but it’s been clawing at me fur a while.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.” She fiddles with her claws for a moment before saying, “I’m sorry.”

“No, it is alright.” She tries to console Nepeta by putting a hand on her shoulder. “We often think about the inevitable truths when faced with these kinds of situations. I sometimes wake up feeling that he might come back today. And if he doesn’t, then I think that he will come back tomorrow. I would not worry about him so much.” She could also say that about Roxy and Rose, but those are different feelings altogether.

“But Vwiskers said—”

“Never you mind what Vriska says,” Kanaya interrupts with a wink. “As her devoted moirail, I know that she sometimes gets involved in things and likes to bring others with her.”

“Are you throwing me under the mass transportation vehicle?” Vriska says with a sort of cynical tone, coming up from behind Kanaya.

Kanaya rolls her eyes. “Quite the opposite, actually.” Kanaya takes Nepeta’s hand. “I am simply helping Nepeta understand you better.”

Nepeta slides her hand out. “Vriska, were you lying when you told me about Karkat?” she asks.

“Nope.” She saunters towards Kanaya. “As a matter of fact, I have just the thing for you both.” Vriska gestures behind herself with her chin. “They’re in my ship, the mongrels. Slow as hell. They totally forgot how excruciatingly rocky seafaring vehicles are—HEY!” Kanaya and Nepeta both shove past her, Nepeta actually knocking Vriska over.

Can it really be them? Have they returned? Kanaya keeps running, noting the time of day. To the best of her knowledge, it is about mid-morning, maybe ten or eleven. The earth-date is August first, nineteen-ninety-five. If what Vriska is implying is true, she wants to remember this day.

Both women race down the final hill towards the dock.

There they are.

Limbs pumping, blood pusher pounding, she fades into tunnel vision, knowing the terrain is free from large rocks so she has no chance of falling. He notices her and braces for impact as she throws her arms around him for the first time, perhaps ever.

“Kanaya, you’re crushing my lungs,” he breathes.

“Oh! My apologies,” she says, helping him up. As soon as he straightens himself up, he is then hugged by Nepeta, who purrs in his ear, making him cry out in protest and attempt to shove her away in vain. As soon as she gets off him, Kanaya makes a move of her own.

She punches him right in the face. He stares at her, shocked and about to yell before she beats him to it.

“You left!”

“Well, I—!”

“Shut up! I’m not done!” He complies, and she takes a deep breath. Nepeta uses Sollux as a shield. Kanaya has not been rehearsing the proceeding speech, but it comes out like she had been. “Not a word was spoken or discussed when you left. Not with myself, anyway. I thought you hated the planet, we all had.” She looks at Sollux and says, “I will deal with you later.” She turns back to Karkat. “What I don’t understand is why! Leaving without a trace is what unsatisfied wrigglers do. You are not a wriggler. You are a fully grown adult troll. Fully grown adult trolls do not do something that childish!” She runs her fingers through her hair, feeling her horns coming back in. “What were you thinking? Were you going to consult with me? Do you have any idea what we have been going through here? We had to redelegate every single chore, including the schooling! I even went back to looking after Dave! Maybe it was so sudden that you might not have had time to do so, but even then, you could have at least left word!”

Karkat sits in silence, rubbing his reddening cheek. It’s then that she noticed his bloodshot eye and she kneels down in the grass to tend to it, gently taking his face in her hands.

“What in the universe happened to your eye?”

* * *

 

Meenah decided the day that Kanaya told her that Karkat had left for the real world, she would go out swimmin’ every mornin’ when she woke up, do four laps, and then hunt until lunch. She is becoming a troll of the sun to avoid Cronus, the creep. She did her four laps a while ago and had about three bluefins when she saw Vriska’s boat arrive. Usually she didn’t pay attention, but today there were extra people onboard. It’s only when they stepped out and Kanaya and Nepeta came tearin’ down the path when she recognized one of them as Karkat. She saw Kanaya yellin’ and thought it best to stay out of the way until the end, listening to every word she said.

That is, until she heard Kanaya ask about his eye. She gets out of the water, dragging the wriggling tuna by their tails and approaches the group. Before she can interact, she hears someone shout, “Tuna!” behind her. She whips around to see Mituna jumping on her, wrangling the fish out of her grip.

“Hey, leggo!” she shouts.

“’Tuna, stop!” Latula yells, catching up.

“Look what I caught, ‘Tula!” he states proudly. Meenah slaps her forehead.

“I caught these, ya guppy!” she yells, snatching the fish back.

“I’m sorry, Meen,” Latula says apologetically. “He just gets so excited when he sees shiny things.”

Meenah scoffs. “Keep him on a shorter leash next time,” she spits.

“Meenah!”

“I don’t get it,” Mituna says.

Meenah decides to ignore the trolls her age and focus on the ones way older. Kanaya said, “Leaving is what unsatisfied wrigglers do.” She hauls the oversized fish all the way to the hive. Leaving is what unsatisfied wrigglers do. She drops them off in the kitchen block. Leaving is what unsatisfied wrigglers do.

Meenah trudges all the way to the living block, tosses and turns on the sofa, then retreats to the girls’ block. Thankfully, it was empty.

Leaving is what unsatisfied wrigglers do.

“I’m not a wriggler!” she screams out of one of the windows, gripping the sill in frustration. She was unsatisfied when Karkat was gone, then Kanaya’s words kept her at bay, but now she’s feeling unsatisfied again? Was it because Karkat hadn’t noticed or even asked about her well-being yet? Then again, it’s not like she knows or not because she hasn’t gone and checked.

Was she jealous?

“Not jealous!” She wasn’t that petty, was she? Kanaya and Nepeta are both prettier and more badass than Meenah was. No matter how many Bluefin tuna that Meenah caught, it couldn’t rival Nepeta’s hunting, and no matter how much she grew over the next few years, she’d never be old enough for Karkat. Besides, she likes Kanaya and Nepeta. Kanaya is bassically perfect and Nepeta just has a silly crush. She yells in frustracean again, this time ripping the sill clean off, sending some splinters and breaking some rusted nails. “Dammit!” She replaces the sill carefully, looking around to make sure nobody saw that.

One thing she knows for sure: she’s leavin’ as soon as she’s good and able.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's song title was brought to you by: Plumb and Plummet.


	27. I'll Watch You Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it has been a long time, I'm so sorry. I had a billion job interviews and zero callbacks.  
> Most of this chapter will be four years after the last chapter.

“Maybe we should start teaching them the local human language,” Kanaya says the day after the childrens’ first day on the mainland. They are now twelve human years old, and some of them, mainly the girls, had felt embarrassed not being able to read anything. Sollux started teaching himself the day they had gotten a computer for the island. Lately there had been an obsession with the ending of the millennium. Most of the local humans had been in hysterics about it, according to Dirk anyway, who had given them his old model to upgrade to a newer one while Dirk had taken advantage of some sales. Kanaya was shocked at how many humans had not had personal computers yet. Alternia has had them for a couple centuries now, and given their circumstances, she didn’t feel quite so poor.

Karkat is about to reject it when he stops and thinks. “It’s not a terrible idea, but I can’t do it. I won’t.”

“Of course you can. I’ll help you learn it, too. It’s actually quite similar to Alternian.”

Karkat frowns, putting down a record of a human that looks like troll Will Smith. “I can read. I don’t need your help.”

“Here, hand me one of those records. We will make a translation chart.”

“I got it!” He grabs a few of them and sits on the ground. Kanaya gets on her knees and is holding a pen in her hand. He takes it from her and holds it over the paper.

“May I see?”

“No.”

Excruciating minutes pass by. “Give me the pen.”

“I have it, hold on.”

“Karkat, it has been ten minutes.”

“Would you please get off my back? Be patient.”

Kanaya sighs, getting up. She goes to the kitchen block and makes herself some coffee. The whole process takes about half an hour because someone had left old coffee in there from the other day. She doesn’t make coffee very often, because more often than not, it gets stolen before she can get to it every morning. This particular predicament was odd, so she had to wash it before using it again. One thing she thanks Sollux for is the full integration of electricity at the hive. For years, they had an electric light in every room and a sewing machine for Porrim, and now they have small appliances in the kitchen, like a coffee maker. Unfortunately, the children cannot seem to get the recipe right and some of the boys claim to have stayed up for two days straight on a single cup. She doesn’t doubt their claims, so she denies them access.

“I need help,” Karkat says when she returns.

“With the writing? We could call someone.”

“No, with the stick so firmly planted up my asshole.”

“Don’t use that human sarcasm on me, Karkat.”

“The fuck is sarcasm?”

“It’s when one is facetious, I think. I am not completely sure myself.”

“Whatever,” he scoffs. “Who are you going to call then?”

“Perhaps Dirk would be a good choice?”

Karkat looks as if he is gritting his teeth. “Why him?”

Kanaya tilts her head to the side. “Why not? He is human after all.”

“B-because,” he stammers.

Kanaya blinks. Could it be? “Are you jealous?”

Karkat turns red. “Fuck no!”

She turns back to writing. “It just seems like the convenient choice, since Dave is learning himself. He is nearly six now.”

Karkat stumbles on some words, coming up with nothing substantial.

“Please do think on it.”

Karkat harrumphs. “Fine. However, if the young ones consider this to be the most condescending bullshit ever, I would have to object, too.”

“The only one being condescending here is you, Karkat.”

“Me? Condescending? Hah!”

“That’s my job, anyway,” Eridan suddenly intervenes. Kanaya looks just in time to see Karkat twitch at Eridan’s sudden appearance.

“Go away, Eridan!”

“I’m goin’ to have to say no,” he says calmly, turning to Kanaya. “Kan, somethin’s goin’ on with Fef and Nep, could you come a see?”

Kanaya puts down the pen after finishing the letter “L”. “Oh, dear,” she mutters. Those two have always gotten along, has something happened?

* * *

 

AND NOW FOR AN UNECESSARY FLASHBACK TO FOUR YEARS AGO, SPECIFICALLY THE TIME RIGHT AFTER KARKAT AND SOLLUX GOT BACK TO THE ISLAND.

“Tho, how weird wasth that?” Sollux asks Karkat as they hide in one of the blocks. Meenah would be looking for Karkat any second now, and Sollux’s block seems like the best place to do that. Yes he knew she was clingy, but he just can’t handle her right now. One step at a fucking time.

Karkat just didn’t feel like responding. He was sure Kanaya would be a lot angrier than that after all this time. Was she so eager to forgive him? Maybe it was because he was hurt. He didn’t have the courage to tell her it was from a blackrom-filled one-night-stand.

“Hello? KK?”

“What?”

“I wath juth thaying KN’th being weird.”

“Everyone here is fucking weird, double-dutch.”

“I know that, but we’ll get to them later. I mean KN in particular.”

“What about her?”

“Well, she went from happy to angry to contherned. I thought I wath the one who wath thupoth to have dual perthonalitieth.”

“I don’t know, Sollux.” He tried to come up with some bullshit reason, but he couldn’t do that to her, talk about her behind her back like that. He decides to change the subject. “So, the other night… Are we…?”

“I’d be cool with it.”

“Wait, seriously?” Karkat turns to him a bit too fast. “It wasn’t sudden or just a one-time thing?” He could feel his face burning with embarrassment. He _had_ been the one to initiate it after all.

“Why not?”

“Well, I was going to say that it was really fast and felt pretty damn platonic from your end.”

“Really? I thought I ekthprethed my conthensuality pretty well.”

“God, you’re infuriating.”

“I hate you too, Karkat.”

Screaming then ensued. It was Kanaya from the basement. Karkat and Sollux jump, startled. “The hell?!” Karkat is the first to arrive, unsure of how he even got there so fast. “Kanaya, what?”

She stands aside to reveal a fully mature mother grub, wings and everything. “She has sprouted her wings,” she says proudly.

The rest of the adult trolls arrive thereafter. “And?” Karkat asks.

“And we can start repopulating,” she explains simply. Karkat immediately breaks eye contact, observing the others. Sollux looks less than pleased, Eridan looks elated, Feferi looks excited for Kanaya, Nepeta looks away, and Vriska just smiles, no _smirking_ in his direction and he gives her the one-finger salute.

* * *

 

“And so I was thinking that I would have joint lessons with our… children here on our island with Dave, as far as learning is concerned.” Kanaya was pretty sure pitching the idea to Dirk would be an excellent strategy, especially over the summers, since he worked and didn’t have anyone to take care of Dave.

“Sounds cool. He’ll probably roll with it pretty easily.” Dirk says something on his end, probably to Dave. “He wants to know if there’s soda.”

“We can get some, sure!” she answers. “What’s soda?” she mouths to Karkat. He whispers that it’s a carbonated drink that kids drink to get more excited, kind of like Faygo, but less mind-warpy. “Is Faygo alright?”

“Whatever you have he’ll probably drink,” says Dirk. “He’s at that age where he can’t tell the difference between sugary shit and other sugary shit. Hell, my taste isn’t even that refined.”

“I see.”

“One thing I can tell you is that every day promptly at noon, his teacher calls my work and tells me that Dave wants to talk to me. I don’t know how that’s going to work out with you not having a phone there or anything.”

“Hmm, l will need to get back with you tomorrow. I need to speak with Karkat and Sollux.”

“Sollux is the computer one, right?”

“Precisely.”

“Sounds good. I’ll be back from work after nine tomorrow night. Dave is there after school so you could probably call before that.”

“Alright, I will call you then.”

“Thanks, Kanaya.”

“Don’t mention it.” She hangs up. Karkat sits in a barstool, browsing over the menu indecisively.

“Karkat, we need to purchase a phone.”

“Why? Isn’t a computer enough?” he asks. “There is internet, right?”

“Unfortunately not. Humans don’t have easy access to computers like we used to.”

“Are they seriously that primitive?”

Kanaya looks about to see if any of the other patrons were taking offense, but none seemed to be paying attention. “I’m just saying that we might need one in order to function. We cannot depend on Miss Red forever.”

Karkat shudders. “That woman gives me the oddest stares sometimes. It’s like she’s never seen a goddamn hat before.”

“Well, you do wear it often, maybe she is just concerned that you have no others.”

“But I don’t.”

She purses her lips. How else can she say this without sounding pretentious? “In any case, we need to talk to Sollux and ask how to get a phone installed.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“By the way, have you considered getting another job?”

“Yes.”

“Have you looked?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“And would you mind your own business? You’re not my lusus.” He gets off the stool and pushes past her, charging out the door.

Kanaya sighs and runs after him. “What about here? It’s close and convenient enough.”

“I’m not working anywhere near Miss Red’s dining establishment.”

“Fair enough. What about the mainland? I’m sure Vriska might know someone who is hiring.”

“She has Gamzee for that. Ever since his hotel shut down, he’s been her spotter.” What?!

“He’s been _spotting_ for her?” Kanaya always spotted for Vriska when they were on Alternia. When they went out on the town trying to alleviate their debt, Kanaya kept an eye out for their enemies. She only needed a spotter when she was in the red. Kanaya had no idea she was that bad now. Kanaya clutches the hem of her shirt, then at her blood pusher. She knew she had been distant, but for Vriska to do this after so many years? No, this can’t be possible.

“Whoa, Kanaya, you okay?” Karkat’s hand is on her shoulder, his red eyes full of worry. She swallows before she answers.

“Let’s get home.”

* * *

 

“What the hell are you two doing?” Vriska says, opening the closet door to find two young trolls in very close proximity. They look like they had been on top of each other for a very long time. She couldn’t see one of them because they were being blocked. The one blocking the other one was Horuss. He turns to Vriska, obviously caught off guard and startled, scrambling away to reveal two things she hasn’t seen in a long time: a near-full bucket, and _Damara_.

Damara mutters something Vriska doesn’t understand in annoyance. Wasn’t she gone for years?

She turns to a semi-naked Horuss. “I’ll deal with you later,” she says through gritted teeth. She starts to raise her hand threateningly, but before it could scare him off, she turns it into a fist and forces it back down. “Go to your block!”

Damara mutters something else that sounds like, “You didn’t have to yell at him.”

“As for you, where have you been? And speak like a normal troll! You’re pissing me off.”

“If I must.”

“What is that?” Vriska demands, pointing at the bucket.

“My gift to you,” she yawns. “Two of your dead are very important to two of your living, and the grub that will come of our genetics will make either one or the other. I made sure of it this time.”

“Gift? _This time?_ What’s your angle, shortstuff?” Vriska crosses her arms, cornering the troll, who is now up to her chest in height.

“I have no angle. I’m a wildcard.” She winks and takes off down the hallway. Of course, Vriska chases after, not expecting to literally bump into Kanaya on the way.

“Vriska, was that Damara running just now?” Kanaya asks.

“Yes it was. I’ll never catch her now. She got the jump on me.” She sighs, turning away to go back to the closet, lifting the bucket carefully by its handle. That’s the only part she will ever touch on these gross-ass objects. She hands it to Kanaya. “Now, don’t you have a job to do?”

Kanaya takes the bucket, looking at it quizzically. “It can wait a few moments. I need to talk to you.” She puts it down close to the wall.

“Am I in trouble, mom?”

“Far from it! What has gotten into you lately? I heard from Karkat that Gamzee was spotting for you.”

That little twerp. “It’s true.”

“But you only need spotters when things are bad.”

Her eye twitches. “Yep.”

“Vriska, talk to me!”

That does it. “How about you do the same, huh?!” she explodes.

“Vriska—”

“I have been waiting for you to meddle in my affairs! Waiting for you! I hated it and I hated myself for wanting you to, but it looks like you have someone else to spill all your thoughts to!” She hadn’t expected Kanaya to just not know everything because she always found out by meddling. She is shocked and appalled, but not speechless. “We have been here on this planet for seven years and I have no idea what the hell you’re up to half of the time. And seeing as you have no inkling of what’s going on in mine, I have no choice but to draw the conclusion that you just haven’t cared or even noticed. I don’t think you are even capable of handling more than one quadrant at a time! I’m sick of it. I’m sick of waiting, and I’m sick of you.”

“But—”

“I know all of your excuses. Your meddling is contagious enough to me to know that you have one for everything. And guess what?” She didn’t wait for Kanaya to say “what.” “I’m done. I can’t. I’ve put myself out there and you just haven’t taken the bait.” She turns on her heel, resisting the urge to take it all back. “It’s over.” She stalks away from her ex-moirail. “Go rant to Karkat or something!” she adds, driving the final nail into the burial box. She enters her block, slams her door, and rips off her coat, throwing it against the wall. She wants to break something, but the only breakable things in her room are priceless and valuable and they might need them later. Instead, she collapses on her bed and buries her face in the pillow, trying really hard not to regret the words that had been boiling in her since they landed.

What has she done?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter is brought to you by: The All-American Rejects


	28. Intermission 2, Act 3: Tonight, We Are Young

At the tender age of four, both children were driving all three of their guardians absolutely crazy. John and Jade raced down the hallways every hour and nearly broke something every time. Of course, this didn’t rattle Grandma Betty in the slightest, unless they came too close to her kitchen. Jane and Jake felt anxious everywhere else in the house.

Every so often, Jane would visit the factory downstairs, even though she knew that Roxy wasn’t there anymore. She couldn’t bear to face Dirk ever since that day. He didn’t know it, but Jane had actually been the one to convince Roxy to leave and never look back. Most instances where she had managed to break away from her life in the upstairs, she simply watched him from afar, just to see how he was doing. As far as she knew, he never missed a day of work. She had to wonder how his home life was, but she imagined it instead. She guessed that Roxy took at least one of their children with her, which now that Jane thinks of it, is kind of messed up. There was a movie that came out that was similar to this, where twins were separated by their parents at birth and never knew of the others’ existence. Roxy and Dirk wouldn’t raise them like that, would they? The Jane doth ponders too much.

Right before the new year, Jane asked her mother if they could get a computer for their household.

“Where’d’ya get a preposterous idea like that from?” she countered. She never was too keen about the internet and Jane figured it was a tool to keep her and Jake indoors. She knew her mother was using the internet in her office because she had logged onto it multiple times in the last few months.

Jane rolled her eyes. “Mother, the millennium is coming to an end, and I would like to see the world before it does,” she answered. “Besides, the world is going to end anyway, so why not?” She knew it wouldn’t because it was stupid gobbledygook invented by paranoid unemployed men with too much time on their hands and looked into the stuff. Just mentioning something that ridiculous would get her laughed out of the room.

Her mother laughed loud and long. “Yeah, right! What a dumb time ta end the world!” She wiped a tear from her eye, quickly rubbing it against her fuchsia suit. “But if y’all are so worried about it, I’ll let’cha use mine.” She gave Jane a knowing look. She sighed, agreeing.

The next day, Jane began researching tools to help her children learn how to read. She didn’t trust the designated shopper that mother hired because they changed every year. They changed every year because mother had fired them. Mother had fired them because they were skimming off the top. They skimmed off the top when they were entrusted to purchase expensive toys, such as electronic systems, regular toys, and other nonsensical things that her past self thought she wanted. She figured out that they were mostly male, because Jake literally got every movie he wanted, but Jane got every dress she hated. But enough about the past. The shopper this time was taking at least a third of the budget, which is too much to start with because Jane knew how much they were given, and they didn’t bother to remove the price tags, so the math didn’t add up. She had to do everything herself now.

In her journey, she learned how to make a separate account on the computer, access the internet, create shopping lists and spreadsheets, and download programs. The only thing she hated was that the background on the computer didn’t change to very attractive colors. She chose the lightest blue they offered and stuck with it. The apple symbol in the middle of the screen was awful, but she lived with it.

She opened the internet, waited for the dial tone, and connected as per usual. She shot down the ads for an instant messenger service the browser provided, but then got an idea.

Opening a search engine, she typed, “What instant messenger service is low rated and highly obscure?” The results showed the lowest rated service in existence: Pesterchum. She investigated the features for a moment before logging in as a guest. They don’t ask for any personal information, and just showing a username and a mood status. A lot of the reviews said that it was full of bugs, but other reviews said that they were nothing to worry about.

The layout was also extremely simple, but that just meant that it wouldn’t be noticeable on any other accounts on the computer. It seemed perfect enough, so Jane signed up. All this research made her feel like a detective, so she wanted to make her handle reflect that. Alliterations are always fun, so she tossed a few back and forth, drawing inspiration from a thesaurus website: damselDetective sounded too girly, funnyFlatfoot made her sound like a duck, shadowSlueth was just too shady. She looks over her shoulder cautiously, but then she remembered that she wasn’t sneaking around anymore, she actually had permission this time. All that sneaking without getting caught made her feel braver. The name braveBloodhound sounded badass, but… She looks down at her lap, remembering then that most of her clothes looked like they were styled in the forties and fifties. Gumshoe was a pretty old word, but what was another word that meant brave? Gutsy? Gutsy gumshoe sounded silly, but then she remembered that her childhood was basically cut short, so she had no time to be silly. If she couldn’t be silly in real life where it mattered, then she could definitely be silly on the internet, where she can be whoever she wants. She’s twenty-two years old, her brain is still developing, and damn it, she was going to be silly while she can!

She smiled, entering the name into the database. She changed her settings to baby blue text and waited for someone to message her. After a few minutes of nothing, her smile faded and she started to log off. Closing the window took a while, but then the window started blinking right before it closed. Someone tried to contact her! She quickly logged back in, and the message popped up immediately. The text was bright pink and went under the name “tipsyGnostalgic”.

tispyGnostalgic [TG] began pestering gutsyGumshoe [GG] at 8:26 PM

TG: sorry if this is a weird q 2 ask  
TG: im tryin to find my friend  
TG: her name is jane

No way. She held her fingers over the keyboard, thinking of a good response.

GG: My name is Jane, but who are you?  
TG: i cant say  
TG: too dangerous  
TG: lemme aks u somethin  
TG: ask*  
TG: cuz i met a lotta janes and not a lot of progress  
GG: Shoot?  
TG: how many kids do i have  
GG: I don’t even know who you are.  
GG: But if you’re who I think you are, then two.  
TG: lucky guess  
GG: Come on!  
TG: that was only the first in a barrage  
TG: ready your freddy, eddy

It took Jane all she had not to smash her hands on the keyboard.

GG: Fine.  
GG: What’s your second question?  
TG: what are their names?  
GG: Easy, Dave and Rose.  
TG: ok condy i know this is u  
GG: Condy?? What the heck???  
TG: now tell me something jane would only know!!!  
GG: I am not swindling you, Rox.  
TG: what was daves first word

She can’t remember. What she does remember is that it was the same as Rose’s first word. Jane ran her fingers through her hair and gripped it, pulling at her scalp. What was it? No. Could it? She typed out the word slowly and covered her eyes before clicking “send.”

GG: “Shit.”

A long pause. Jane was at the edge of her seat. Was it the wrong word? She bit her lip nervously.

TG: one more

Jane could have let her head drop on the desk in frustration.

TG: what was roses first word

Jane smiled. She typed the word more confidently now.

GG: “Shit.”

The pause this time wasn’t quite as long, and she got an enthusiastic reply in return.

TG: JANEY DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG IVE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU TO FIGURE OUT WHAT THE INTERNET IS????  
GG: Roxy, do you know how long it’s been since you dropped off the face of the earth?!  
TG: you talked 2 dirk huh?  
GG: He’s been really worried, we all have. It’s been four years!  
TG: i was busy  
TG: raising kids aint all its cracked up to be  
GG: Tell me about it. Jade and John are almost five now and they’re running around the house like lunatics!  
TG: oh man i wish rose was that active  
GG: What is Rose not doing?  
TG: well shes not driving yet thats 4 sure  
TG: she basically read all the books in my collection  
GG: How many is that exactly?  
TG: about 500???  
GG: Whoa!  
TG: theyre not even kid books  
TG: im so proud of my lil girl

Jane imagined Roxy holding Rose reading the encyclopedia together and smiled again. She wondered if Roxy had a budget for books. Jane wanted to ask all sorts of mom things, but one thing she wanted to know was where Roxy had been.

GG: So, where did you go?

Another pause.

TG: texas  
TG: dirk said he had family there so i stayed for a few days  
TG: ive been there for a while now and its 2 hot for my taste  
GG: Wow, all the way in Texas?  
TG: random question  
GG: Okay.  
TG: are you on your own computer  
GG: Mother allowed me to use hers. Was that bad?  
GG: I made another account with a password she won’t figure out.  
TG: oh no  
TG: no no no no nononooooo  
GG: What?  
TG: JANEY NO  
GG: Roxy, what??  
TG: its not your fault  
TG: i cant  
GG: What’s not my fault?!  
GG: TELL ME!  
TG: pesterchum saves all the convos on computers  
GG: The reviews didn’t say that!  
GG: I’ve been hornswoggled!  
TG: thats cuz they all do that  
TG: but pesterchum is dif cuz they save to the hard drive  
TG: its p standard for instant messengers to make it so they cant get deleted unless you go to the main account and delete it from the hard drive

Jane knew that mother was extremely nosy, and she could probably figure out what exactly Jane did on the computer. Roxy freaking out like that made it sound easy.

GG: Even if the password was good?  
TG: does it contain names and/or birthdays  
GG: How could you possibly know that?  
TG: because its what everybody does  
TG: if she knows anything about you then shell figure it out soon enough  
GG: I am so sorry!  
TG: as i said  
TG: u didnt know  
TG: its not your fault  
TG: will she let you get a computer  
GG: She laughed in my face when I asked to even use one for the kids.  
TG: then get a pda  
TG: you can install pC on it  
TG: plus the convos cant be saved on it  
TG: a bug in the programming makes it so *wink*

If Jane gets a PDA, whatever that is, then she can probably use it for the kids when they’re older.

GG: Roxy, you’re a genius!  
TG: i wouldnt say genius  
GG: But you are! Don’t be so hard on yourself.  
TG: thanks janey *mwah*  
GG: Mwah?  
TG: im blowin a kiss at u  
GG: Oh! *Mwah!*  
TG: ok then  
TG: u know what 2 do  
GG: Yes ma’am!  
TG: one more thing  
TG: pls dont contact me again until you get that pda

“What?!” she shouted out loud. But they just found each other again!

GG: Why?!  
TG: shell find me  
GG: My mother?  
GG: Why?  
TG: i hate her so much  
TG: rose is extremely susceptible to others  
TG: once she learns something she goes into this weird trance  
TG: shes really empathetic and i just dont want that woman to be around my daughter!!!! (xtra xclamations for emphasis!!!!)  
TG: that may or may not be one of the reasons i didnt buy her many kid books because most of them are about animals  
TG: and animals are the worst because then sometimes she thinks shes that animal  
TG: ive taken her to therapists here  
TG: but all they say is to take pills and draw pictures  
TG: my daughter doesnt need pills!!  
TG: shes NOT BROEKN!!!!  
TG: SHES TOO SMART FOR FUCKING PILLS AND IM TOO SMART TO LET THEM HORNSWOGGLE ME INTO THEIR CAPITALISTIC BULLSHIT!!!!  
GG: I get it, Roxy. You love her too much for that.

Jane can’t judge Roxy for protecting Rose like that.

TG: ok im calm  
TG: its just that im her mom  
TG: and a mom does what is best for her children

That line hit a deep nerve in Jane. Her mother spouted a similar line before she tried to brainwash Jake, and she used it in spite before. Roxy was a good person. _Is_ a good person. Maybe that line can be used in a good way, too.

GG: Right.  
GG: Moms have to protect them at all costs, right?  
TG: right  
TG: YA HEAR THAT CONDY  
TG: IM GONNA PROTECT MY KIDS AND DO WHATS BEST FOR THEM  
TG: NOT FOR YOU  
TG: *MOBIUS DOUBLE MIDDLE FINGER*

Jane had never felt so empowered in her life.

TG: seriously tho get a pda

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] has blocked gutsyGumshoe [GG] at 9:45 PM  
tipsyGnostalgic [TG] has stopped pestering gutsyGumshoe [GG] at 9:45 PM

Now she knew what she had to do.

She had to do what was best for her children.

Four months have passed since that day, and now it was the family birthday, April thirteenth. Jane still can’t wrap her head around the coincidence that John and Jade’s birthday was so close to herself and Jake’s “birthday.” She doesn’t know when her real birthday is, but there really was no way to tell when it was since she was basically kidnapped from an neglectful family. She made sure to talk about a PDA every time the shopper was sent out to buy birthday gifts. Jane compiled a meticulous list of things to keep John and Jade happy, like getting stuffed toys of cartoon characters, clothes for specific occasions even though both of them are growing like weeds, etc. She was fine with getting nothing else but the PDA, so her mother wouldn’t have to buy it for her. Who knows what Jake was planning. He usually had something up his sleeve when playing with the kids.

Jane had something of her own planned for them. She was cooking up something grand and maybe even mischievous. She woke up at five in the morning just to get started.

“Mommy?” a small voice says from beside her. He tugs at her apron with sleepy eyes.

“John, what is it?” she asks. He tugs her apron harder. “Oh?” She bends down. He’s so cute when he’s sleepy. She puts down her whisk and bends at her knees so that they are the same height.

He says nothing, pulls her closer, kissing her on the cheek.

“Okay,” she says, wrapping one arm around him, hugging him closer. She picks him up and returns the kiss on his forehead, and then lets him walk right back out without saying another word. She smiles to herself and turns back to her mixing bowl. Her face drops. A tiny hand-sized hole is in the middle of the cake batter, like someone had scooped it out. Her eyes widen. There were raw eggs in that batter!

Jane runs.

“John, no!”

* * *

 

“Higher daddy, higher!” Jade squeals as Jake lifts her up high above his head. They’ve been doing this for nearly an hour now and Jake would never admit to his arms getting tired. Not in front of Jade, anyway.

“Okay, Jade!” he laughs. “One more time and then we play something else, okay?”

“I wanna fly next!” Jade giggles. He just knew that she was testing him. A five-year-old is trying to push him to see where he goes, but he’s stubborn.

“Maybe for your birthday next year.” Before she can protest, he lifts her up again, but then feigns to lose his balance, falling over backwards, and clutching the small screaming girl to his chest. “Your dear old dad is too old for this!”

“You old grandpa!” Jade laughs.

Jake strokes his invisible beard when he should have stroked his actual mustache. Jane thinks it looks weird on him, but he makes it look manly. In an old man voice, he says, “I’m gettin’ too old fuh playin’. Don’t come back until you got a stache as epic as mine. And taxes! Criminy, where are my old man pills?”

“My turn!” John yells from behind.

“Grandpa said we could fly next!” Jade beams, scrambling to her brother.

“Grandpa?” John asks.

Still lying on his back, Jake corrects his daughter. “I actually said for your birthday next year. What else do you wanna play?”

“Hide and seek,” John says without skipping a beat.

“Brilliant!” Jake exclaims, raising his arm and pointing to the sky. “I’ll count to thirty.” He needs to rest his guns for a bit.

“A hundred!” they both reply.

“A hundred?”

“A thousand!” Jade says excitedly.

Jake gasps. “Where in the world did you learn that word?!”

“Jade, that’s not a real number,” John says.

“It is, too!” Jade says defiantly.

“Is not!”

“Is too!”

“Nuh-uh!”

“A hundred!” Jake interrupts, covering his eyes. “Ninety-nine! Ninety-eight! Ninety-seven!”

Immediately, the children scatter, tearing across the outdoor gardens. Sometimes they just need to remember what they’re doing instead of getting distracted with petty ruckus. He gets down to twenty when he hears heavy panting and footfalls next to his head. He peeks out to see Jane standing over him, blocking out the sun. She looks worried. He finishes counting and gets up.

“Have you seen John?” she asks quietly. “He ate some batter and it had raw eggs in it. I don’t want him to get sick.”

“He’s playing hide and seek with us,” Jake answers, looking around the yard. He sees a bare knee hiding behind the “Betty Crocker” sign. He signals Jane to it with his eyes, because Jade was wearing a long white skirt today. John has no foresight when it comes to playing while his knees are exposed. Jane seems to understand and sneaks up behind him. Jake watches from a safe distance.

Jane manages to grab John around his middle and lifts him up, squirming the whole time. “First rule in hiding!” she says loudly. “Make sure you can see your enemies!” She hoists him over her shoulder. “Pranking 101.”

“No!” John yells. He’s kicking, but Jane doesn’t seem to notice.

“John, if you don’t stop, you’re going to time out.”

“NOOO!”

“That’s just for eating my raw cake batter. You’re not going to get away with that, oh no! You could get salmonella!”

He stops, but then groans a little. “Mommy?”

“John?”

“I don’t feel good.”

Jane stops walking, her expression completely different. She puts him down and crouches to his height. Jake feels like he knows what’s coming. John was either going to throw up, or he was trying to get one over on Jane run off. Either way, he’s in for a show. “You okay, John?” The entire way, he was side-stepping towards the bushes, where he heard rustling while Jane was going John-wrangling.

“Just kidding!” He blows a raspberry and runs past her. She turns and reaches out, unable to catch him.

Just then, Jake hears it. The unmistakable giggling that could only come from… “The girl in the bushes!” he shouts suddenly. He leaps over them, finding Jade hunkering down there. She squeals and runs, too.

“John! No cake for you!” Jane shouts. Jake looks away from his prey to see her carrying John the over her shoulder like before. He’s still kicking and screaming, but at least he’s not sick. They disappear inside.

“Olly olly oxen free!” Jade yells as she runs to the building, slapping it with her palm.

“Haha, you won!” Jake laughs heartily.

“Can we play again?”

“It’s your birthday, so why not?”

“But it’s your birthday, too.”

“Well then winner says.”

“You count!”

“Aw, bullocks!”

“A thousand!”

“Okay!” He covers his eyes. “Ten! Twenty! Thirty!”

“That’s cheating!”

“No it’s not!” he says while peeking between his fingers.

“Yeah-huh!”

“Forty!”

Padding on the grass.

“Fifty!” He continues on, ignoring the sounds of a helicopter over the city. It’s probably police, but as he gets into the three-hundreds, it’s very close. He looks between his fingers and sees it approaching the factory. He doesn’t have to see the logo on the side to realize that mother has returned. Just in time, but they have to hide. He stops counting and finds Jade immediately as the helicopter slows to the top of the building.

“Grandpa!” Jade hisses as he covers her mouth and keeps her quiet.

He thought they had more time, but it turns out that waking up at seven to get their energy out before the big party was late. He really hoped she didn’t seen them on the green.

“But it’s grandma!” she whispers.

“We’ll see her later.” He shushes her and she nods.

He can hear the helicopter powering down, so he takes Jade inside discreetly. Unfortunately, mother still believes that children can be raised indoors and not go absolutely sitr-crazy. That’s why Jake ran away so much when he was younger. He didn’t go outside, but he really wanted to. At least if he gave his kids the chance, they wouldn’t hate mother as much as he and Jane did. He leads her through the break room, waves to a couple of shocked scientists getting coffee, and through the passage through the CEO’s office.

They finally make it to the kitchen to see mother watching over Jane putting the cake in the oven. John is sitting at the table sitting nicely. Jake is shocked, but Jade is ecstatic.

“Grandma!” Jade exclaims, letting go of his hand.

“Jade!” Betty Crocker replies, smiling.

“Guess what today is?”

“It’s my favorite granddaughter’s birthday! What would you like to do today?”

“I want to fly!”

“Me too!” John adds.

Jake cuts in. “Next year.” She and Jane shoot him a look. Jake waves it off, then shrugs. _I don’t know how this happened!_ Jane rolls her eyes.

“Whale, we’ll figure that out.” Did she just say _whale_?

“Yay!” both kids shout.

“But what about today?”

They both stop to think. Jade speaks up first. “Can I braid your hair?” she asks, stroking the enormous bun sitting on the back of her head. Jane nods at him for approval. It’ll take a while, maybe distract mother until they can fix up the gifts. Jake had something big for Janey, anyway.

“Sounds splendid!” Jane says, leading mother to the table, still holding Jade. Somehow, John stayed silent the entire time.

“Alright, alright,” mother agrees, sitting at the head of the table in the kitchen. The formal dining room will be used later. For now, though, mother sits awkwardly in the too-small wooden chair.

As soon as they are situated, Jane takes Jake’s hand and leads him to the dining room, where the decorations had been put up and the unwrapped gifts for the kids are in neat piles. They’re both identical except for the clothes. They both have PlayStations, Gameboy Colors, and a sizable stack of videogames each. Their clothes are pretty much the same as they have now, but white. Jake doesn’t want to find that odd, but he figured Jane knew what she was doing when she wrote the list.

“Why is everything in white?” she mutters. Oops.

“Then you didn’t…?”

Jane sighs and smacks her forehead, careful not to smudge her glasses. “Great.”

Jake looks at the new clothes with new disdain and eyes the gift he’s looking for partially hidden by Jade’s green Gameboy. He yelps and lunges for it, shoving it in his pocket. He then looks at Jane, who’s staring at him.

“What was that for?”

“I, uh… have… something… uh…” he stammers. Then he sees a duplicate under one of John’s shirts behind his pile. He grabs at that one, too, trying not to yell this time. For some weird reason, the shopper must have thought they were for the kids just because they were electronic. Technically, he and Jane are still kids. Twenty-three and they already have two kids old enough for kindergarten. But wait, speaking of kindergarten… “Question.”

“Changing the subject are we?” she asks inquisitively, smirking and raising an eyebrow.

“Yes! I mean…” He takes a breath. “So are we gonna teach Jade and John?”

Jane nods. “I don’t see why we have any other choice. I ordered lots of learning materials and they came last week. I sent them to the factory under Dirk’s boss’s name.”

Jake nods in approval. “Where are they?”

“Under the bed. Wrapped.” She pushes up her glasses nervously. “Did you happen to see…” She made a box shape with her hands, suspiciously the size of the things in his pockets. “Nevermind.” Jake didn’t push to ask because they were already in his possession. Jane had been pushing the shopper to get one for weeks now with no results, so Jake took matters into his own hands and may or may not have bullied the shopper to get one as well.

“Let’s get these wrapped, shall we? Milady?” He spreads his arms out wide, gesturing to the gifts.

“Let’s.” Jane says, smiling sweetly. She goes over to the corner of the room and retrieves the wrapping paper and brand-new boxes.

An hour later, they were wrapped and ready to go. The couple cleans up the mess and return to the kitchen, where there is a quite the splendiferous sight to behold. Their mother is sitting at the table still, but her hair is a mess, hardly what can be called a braid, and there were spoons and forks woven into her hair. She looked like a madwoman who lived in the forest and collected shiny things. Jake puts a fist to his mustache to hide a smile. He looks over to Jane and sees that she’s biting her lip, trying not to laugh. John and Jade pop up behind their grandmother, both beaming at their accomplishment.

“All done!” they both say, running past their parents like they knew they did something bad.

“How does it look?” mother asks. When they don’t answer right away, her face darkens. “Tell me.”

“It looks… unique!” Jane says.

“Great!” Jake squeaks uncharacteristically. “Party perfect!” He gives her his signature double pistols and a wink, and tried VERY hard not to snort.

Mother sighs, still glowering. “Am I at least gon’ look good for the pictures?”

Jane answers quickly. “Well, the makeup artists might need to have a go at you first.”

“And the hairstylist,” Jake adds. Jane hit him on the arm. He looks and sees her mortified expression. He fucked up, didn’t he?

“My makeup?” mother shrieks, standing up and knocking the chair backward onto the ground. They both stare at her, confused. That’s all she heard? She rushes past, the silverware clinking away, touching her face gently.

“What the hell?” Jake comments.

“I hate to tell you this,” Jane says, “but I think our mother is an alien.”

“Poppycock,” he says, “we would have seen her tentacles or something.”

“Well, she doesn’t have tentacles, but she doesn’t have… you know…” Jane points to her chest.

“Doesn’t have—oh.” Jake stares too long at Jane’s chest. He shakes his head furiously to break the trance. “I have these for you.” He digs into his pockets to grab the things he hid from hear earlier. Jane turns to him and gasps when she sees them.

“PDAs?” she breathes.

“I heard you talking to the shopper and I didn’t think he’d get two.” He hands them both to her. “Happy birthday, Janey.”

“Thank you, Jake!” She takes one of them. “But since we have two, happy birthday, Jake!” She pushes the other into his hand. “I need to get these up as soon as possible.” She clutched one to her chest as she said that. “After the party, I need to tell you something. After we put the kids to sleep, meet me in mother’s office. And for the love of Pete, please keep these to yourself!” She leans in and whispers, “Mother can’t know.”

Jake nods understandingly, shoving the thing back into his pocket. Jane looks down at hers and smiles like she was just reunited with a long-lost friend. Jake can’t help but smile, too.

Of course, the party is very grand, only senior executives being invited and all, giving duplicate gifts and all. Some jokes were thrown around that the kids needed separate rooms to keep their stuff in, and that sparked a begging fire between them and tears were involved until mother said yes. Then the cake arrived. Jane had decorated it, and all Jake wanted to do was eat every crumb himself. As promised, John didn’t get any of it and he just pouted while eating ice cream. The rest of the celebration went on without a hitch, friendly exchanges here and there, etc. The kids fell asleep together under the table, and the parents gingerly took one each and left the group, mother included.

As planned, they met in mother’s office after the kids were tucked in. There, they decided to go to the ballroom instead. Jane was paranoid about bugs or something. Jake wouldn’t put it past their mother to bug her own office.

“So what was the big secret?” he asks as soon as they close the door behind them. He takes out his PDA and starts unwrapping it. Jane does the same.

“I got into contact with Roxy?” she answers.

“What?!” He stops unwrapping the plastic and gapes at her. “When?”

“Back in January.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I wanted to get a PDA first.” She opens the box and turns it on. It glows to life in her hand. Jake goes back to his box and finishes opening it, turning his on as well.

“You have her number then?”

“Nope. That’s what I need to show you.”

“Okay…”

“First we need to get Pesterchum on this thing.”

“Pester _what_?” Jake is now officially confused.

“Pesterchum is a messenger service you can talk to people on.”

“Ah. Cool.”

“I made one the day mother let me use the computer in her office.” She tapped the screen a few times as she talked. “It’s pretty simple. You don’t give out any personal information and your identity is completely hidden. You need to figure out a username, though, since we can’t use our names.”

Jake pauses to ponder. He read the bible while he and Jane were in the hotel all those years ago and there was a really cool-sounding name in it that he’d always remember. Golgotha. He only remembers it because it was a skull. Skulls are awesome. “How about Golgotha?”

Jane stops what she’s doing and looks up at him, knitting her eyebrows together. She opens her mouth to say something but nothing comes out. He’s shocked her into silence for the billionth time in twenty-three years. “Sounds… nice… You also need at least a capital letter in it. And a second word.”

Jake blinks. “What?”

“Here.” She turns the PDA so he could see her signing in. “My username is two words long, and the second word is capitalized. Gutsy Gumshoe. See?”

“Oh, I get it!” He goes to the outlet and plugs the PDA in. He’s pretty sure that’s what the plug is for. Would he need to change the batteries on this thing? He didn’t see a place for new batteries so he just assumes it just charges all the time. Jane joins him on the ground, the outlet between them. She shows him how to download it and they are on their way to establishing a connection with their old friend.

“Okay, now look up tipsyGnostalgic and tell her we got PDAs.”

“Yes, ma’am!” He logs in as “golgothasTerror” and finds messages Roxy.

golgothasTerror [GT] began pestering tipsyGnostalgic [TG] at 11:11 PM

GT: Roxy?  
GT: Its jake.  
TG: JAKE?!  
TG: PROVE IT

“She’s asking me to prove it,” he tells Jane.

“Tell her we got PDAs.”

GT: We got pdas.

“She’s not saying anything.”

“Give her a minute.”

TG: alright ““““jake””””  
TG: tell me something only jake would know  
TG: whats ur wifeys name  
GT: Im not married!  
TG: then your sugar momma  
GT: Jane is not my sugar momma!  
GT: Why are you asking me this!

“Why is she asking me this?!”

“It’s a barrage of questions. I went through the same thing.”

TG: ok ok ok  
TG: whats the funniest word u know

Jake had to think about that one. He has come across many funny terms before, much of them being very old.

GT: Callipygian.  
TG: something appropro for my virgin ears  
TG: or eyes  
GT: Collywobbles?

No response. “She’s not saying anything.”

“Give her a sec.”

TG: omg i spat out my drink  
TG: and last q  
TG: what does omg mean

“Shoot!”

“What?”

“What does ‘omg’ mean?”

“Oh my God.”

“Please tell me!”

“No, that’s what it means.”

“Really?”

“Type it in, Jake!”

GT: Oh my god.

More time passes.

TG: JAKE OMG WTF

“I did it!”

“Tell her to unblock me, and that we both have PDAs now.”

“Right.”

GT: Jane says to unblock her and that we both have pdas of our own now.  
TG: is she there???  
TG: unblockin in progress

“Yes!” Jane exclaims, typing away.

TG: youre both in the same room arent u  
TG: thats p cute  
TG: janeys explainin stuff gimme a sec

Jake waits patiently for the girls to chat. He assumes that they’re catching up. Jane explains as she types. Roxy was in Texas last January, and now she moved to upstate New York. She had to move for reasons they won’t say. She has Rose going to school and is about to end first grade, which gives her time to experiment on things and make a living. Jake doesn’t ask and doesn’t want to know. Apparently Roxy also wants to make Rose skip a grade or two because she’s so smart. Jake wonders exactly how smart his own kids are. He knows they’re natural pranksters, something they inherited from Jane, so that should count, right?

TG: its like 3am here now  
TG: so im just gon go 2 bed  
TG: if u see dirk again tell him my info k  
TG: i told janey to do the same  
TG: tell him im sorry  
TG: he deserves that  
GT: Will do young lass.  
TG: thx

tipsyGnostaigic [TG] stops pestering golgothasTerror [GT] at 12:12 AM

“That was something,” Jake comments, resting his head against the wall.

Jane sighs. “Yeah, technology is bringing the gang back together.” She leans back as well, then leans on his shoulder.

Jake reaches behind and around her shoulder and kisses the top of her head, ruffling her short hair. He suddenly feels very sleepy.

“Let’s go to bed. We can always charge them in our room,” Jane suggests.

“But wouldn’t she be able to find the PDAs?” he asks. If this whole thing was supposed to be a secret, then mother should never have the chance to find out. She was able to lock them in their rooms before, so what would stop her from getting in if she suspects anything fishy?

Jane groans. “Good point. I’m too sleepy to figure it out right now.”

“We could just leave them here,” he says, trying not to fall asleep. “Nobody comes in here. I don’t even think the floor’s been swept in a year.” He palms the floor and wipes the dust on his khakis. He yawns and pushes up his glasses.

“Okay,” she mutters, getting up.

They creep to their room quietly, then slip under the covers, holding each other for the first time in years. Of all the things Jake thought he messed up in his life, being like this with his best friend was worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Jane and John scene at the end of Jane's bit was inspired by this post: http://my-friend-the-frog.tumblr.com/post/48725687014/people-wanted-more-little-john-he-just-woke-up  
> and the chapter's title is brought to you by: Fun.


	29. Are You Done?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was painful to write. I've actually had the Sollux part in mind for about a year, ever since I tried to figure out how Aradia was *blocked*

So much on Kanaya’s plate lately. Hopefully Nepeta and Feferi would understand what she has been through just today. She had to put their situation on hold because she needed to call Dirk before he went to sleep. Then the silent way home was unnerving because Karkat was angry with her again and Vriska had been oddly silent. Kanaya was looking for Nepeta and Feferi when she ran into Vriska again and…

She fucked up, didn’t she?

She can’t think like that.

Priorities! Feferi and Nepeta.

She found them outside, just outside the back doors. Nothing seemed to be the matter. They were just standing there, staring at each other. She opens the door, staying still.

“What’s going on here?” she asks gently.

They don’t move a muscle. Feferi speaks up first. “We’re having a staring contest.”

Kanaya blinks slowly, unable to comprehend why Eridan was so concerned to begin with. She had to ask. “Why?”

“Fefurry told AC that she can go without her goggles for a whole day,” Nepeta says.

Kanaya covers her mouth with one hand, covering a smile. She didn’t feel like she deserved to be amused at this moment, with all of the things that have happened in the last twelve hours. She now noticed that their eyes had gone completely bloodshot. How long have they been playing?

Feferi adds, “My record is three days without a drop of water.”

“Hah! Nepeta can make that in her sleep! The mighty huntress has had lots of purractice!”

It was about that time when Eridan showed up. “So we’re still at it, then?” he asks.

“Go away!” they both exclaim without tearing away from their gazes.

“This is so stupid!” He crosses his arms.

There it is. Both Nepeta and Feferi turn their heads to look at him. Kanaya could have sworn she heard the bones in their necks crack from being stiff for so long.

“What the shell did you just say?” Feferi says through gritted teeth.

“Seriously, Fef?”

“Answer the question,” Nepeta says.

“Wait, what?” he asks.

Kanaya rolls her eyes at them, determining the situation solved. She takes her leave and goes to the kitchen to make the kids some dinner and give the leftovers to her lusus. And speaking of, she should take that bucket down and give her the material before they go bad. It will be the first new grub on the planet, and she can’t contain her newfound role in life.

* * *

 

Of fucking course.

Karkat refuses to leave the mansion, watching Dave awkwardly meet some of the children. For some reason, he was convinced that they were all wearing costumes. He glared at the Dirk human, who didn’t even bother taking off his stupid shades even though the sky was clouded. For some reason, Dave has matching pointed shades. Karkat thinks it makes them look like twin douchebags. Such a shame, becoming a douche at such a young age. The last thing Karkat wants to do is to be around more douchebags.

He doesn’t know who said Dave was about the same age as the ex-grubs, but it was more like twice that. Dave was actually nearly seven human years old at this point, his birthday is in December and it is now October. With encouragement from Kanaya, Karkat also memorized all the things human children his age needed to know, which is a fucking lot. He already knew some stuff, like counting and how many days are in a week, month, year, blah blah et-fucking-cetera. But the names of the months were the worst. It took him a stubborn week to figure out leap years. And the math and vocabulary! Gut him with a four-prong and roast the entrails on a grill, what the fuck do they even do with this information?!

And there they go. Dave disappears, then Meulin somehow pounces on him, which leads to Kurloz pulling them apart in a jealous rage. Mituna then pounces on Kurloz and calms him down, but not before Dirk picks up Dave and drapes him over his arm, squirming the entire time. He and Kanaya exchange some words, then calls Vriska over. They all talk and then Vriska takes Dirk and Dave away.

Wait, that’s it? No schooling? No learning English? No adapting to a human among trolls?

Kanaya approaches, her face full of regret.

“How’d it go?” Karkat asks.

“It went as well as a train on a collision course does an icy track.”

“I saw that.”

“As exciting as it was, Dirk politely declined our offer to educate him here with the others.”

“Probably a good idea.”

She solemnly sighs. “Agreed.” She sighs again.

“Hey, you alright?” he asks, not sure if he even wants to know. Kanaya has basically been telling everyone to fuck off since this morning when she had that argument with Vriska. Did they actually break up? An ugly part of him actually cheers and he is disgusted with himself.

“I’m fine. I just need to get a bucket downstairs.”

Karkat makes a face. That was probably her way of telling him to fuck off, too. He lets her walk away, turning down the hallway and out of the kitchen. He stares for a few seconds, not expecting her to actually return with a full bucket and go down to the basement. He swallows down some bile that had found its way up his esophagus and into his load gaper.

* * *

 

“Sollux?” Kanaya says one day. The snow outside reminds him of someone he’d remember forever, so he’s not going anywhere outside his block unless he has to.

“Is there thomething wrong with the phone line?” he asks. “I told you that I have to uthe it when I aktheth the internet. My two hourth aren’t over yet.”

“No, but there is something I want you to see.”

“What? I’m kind of bithee at the moment.” True, he was only trying to crack some mainframe Vriska suggested to him, but Kanaya had to have known it was important, right?

“There has been a hatching.”

He stops clacking on his keyboard. He heard Kanaya was coming close to fertilizing the eggs, and that a couple of the younger trolls had actually gotten it on, but that was two years ago. Yes, he knows the vernacular, he’s not a dumbass. He didn’t care to find out which two trolls had actually filled the bucket, since KN and VK kept it hush-hush.

“I think you might be interested.”

He turns in his seat and faces her. “Why?”

“I’m not promising you anything, but she does have a certain… crimson tint.”

No way. He had consummated with Aradia plenty of times before she died, but never with a bucket, and way before the mother grub even matured, so…

Kanaya returns downstairs. Sollux gets up. He follows her, trying not to go too fast, but speeding up nonetheless. Before he knew it, he was in front of the tiny grub no bigger than his hands put together.

“Sollux, what the hell are you doing?” Karkat asks. Shit, he didn’t even notice anyone else was there. He had leaned down to pick up the groggy grub. He looks around to see every single troll on the island staring at him. He turns back to the grub and lets it crawl into his hands, curling up against his palm.

“Who?” he asks. It couldn’t have been his and Aradia’s, and filling buckets with younger trolls is utterly disgusting. Besides, he hadn’t cared until now. He feels something strange in his metaphorical blood pusher. He says metaphorical because he buried it long ago.

Kanaya explains. “Vriska had caught Damara and Horuss.” Some of the kids laugh, taunting Horuss with comments. Kanaya quiets them.

“She thought she was doing one of the adult trolls a favor,” Vriska announces. “Either you or Nepeta, I think. Whichever one comes out will make one of you feel better. Little bitch thinks she’s doing us a favor by giving up more mouths to feed when she is barely old enough to control her fate.”

“What!” Nepeta says. “How dare she! No one can replace Nepeta’s moirail like that…” He could have sworn he heard her sniffling, but it could be his own, who knows. All he does know is that there’s a new grub and it looks just like Aradia.

“So what should we name it?” Meenah asks loudly.

A flurry of names pop up, everything from “Noodle” to “Damuss” and “Horara” to “Sheepy”. They were all stupid names. Sollux stands up carefully, holding the grub to his chest. It snuggled, turning onto its back and opening its eyes to look at him.

“Aradia,” he finally says.

“Sollux—” Kanaya starts to say. He hushed her.

“Aradia.” He walks over and hands Aradia to her. “Her name is Aradia.” They night be distantly related, but the bond is still there. He takes his finger and tickles the grub’s belly and she giggles, trying to latch onto his fingers with her claws.

“Barf!” Meenah yells, dragging Aranea and Latula away. Latula grabs Mituna and he grabs Kurloz, who takes Meulin with him. Good riddance. Bunch of immature 14-year-olds.

“If I can, let me help take care of her.”

Kanaya smiles. “You didn’t even need to ask.”

* * *

 

After the whole event in the basement was over, Nepeta went straight to the memorial stones. “Stupid Damara! Nepeta is not that petty!” she sniffles. She gets to Equius’ stone and plops herself down, crossing her arms over her drawn-up knees. She glares at the creek behind it and furiously wipes her eyes.

A few minutes later, “I thought you’d be here,” Karkat says from behind her. She jumps, even though she heard him coming. He joins her in front of Terezi’s stone. “Oh look at that, you brought another boulder for Aradia. Did you drag Sollux here yet?”

She tried. As soon as Nepeta found out, she and Feferi found a boulder about the same size as the other three. Sollux holed himself in his block for days at a time. Every day, she asked him to go with her, but he always made some excuse. He made promises to come some other time, but he broke them. For six years, he has been dodging the subject. Maybe she should try again later today.

“What Damara did was good, but her motives were shitty. If Latula ever tried that, I’d probably kill her and not care what the others thought.” Nepeta turns her head to him sharply, shocked. She gave him her best angry face, and he looked scared. “I’m kidding! Sorry.” He sighs. “That was a fucked up thing to say.”

Nepeta faces the stone again. “You’re still having a black relationship with Pawlux, right?” she asks. She had shipped it, and was very surpurrised to see it come to pass.

“Doesn’t mean he’ll do what I say,” Karkat answers. “And he’ll call bullshit if he thinks I’m luring him into a trap to make him mourn Aradia _your_ way.”

“I got Vriskers here, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, sure, but Sollux is the master at avoiding things until he’s emotionally compromised.”

Nepeta pouts. The last thing she wants to do is purrovoke him into being emotionally compurromised. “What can Nepeta do to get him here?”

“Just tell him. Like everyone else, he hates the secretive elusive shit.”

“You’re sure he won’t reject the idea?”

“No promises.” Suddenly, he was rubbing her back. The action made the hair on her arms and neck stand up. She turns to him, tears in their eyes. “He’ll come around eventually. Give him time.” He lets his hand fall and stands up. He pads away, leaving her alone.

As soon as he disappears into the trees, Vriska appearifies from behind a tree. “I thought he’d never leave.” She stalks to Tavros’ stone and gets on her knees.  She sighs shortly, staring intently at it. “I know he can’t hear me if I talk to this rock, but it helps.”

“That’s why they were made!” Nepeta pipes up. She shifts to a cross-legged position, placing her paws in her lap.

“Tavroooooooos!” she sings. “You sure chose a good time to die. This planet is fun, but you’d basically die anyway. String you up by your horns and I’d lose you either way. Humans suck like that. Take anything different or precious and kill it, kind of like home.” She grits her teeth. “No, that was stupid, I’m sorry.” Nepeta had never, EVER heard Vriska apologize before. “Well, that’s all I wanted to say.” And at that, she sniffed one last sniffle and got up.

Nepeta stayed for a few more minutes, then kissed two fingers and pressed them to the stone in a v-shape.

Nepeta: Bring Pawlux to the stones!

Easier said than done! She waited outside his door for what seemed like forever before he opened it. As soon as he saw her, he scrunched his eyebrows. “NP?”

“Good evening!” she says, giving him her cutest smile.

“Whatever you’re planning, don’t.”

“Come with me.” She needs to be careful not to scare him off. “I still have to show you something.”

“Can it wait?”

“No!” Shit! That was too eager! “I mean, it’ll be good fur you.”

He raises an eyebrow. “The thing you’ve been trying to show me yearth now?”

“Yes!” So he _was_ avoiding her! “It’s a memorial stone.”

“No.” He starts to close the door.

Nepeta pushes it back open. “I made one for Equius.”

“Nope.” He pushes harder.

“Vriska made one for Tavros!” Nepeta leans up against it more, but she doesn’t want to break the door with her strength. It’s been falling apart for years.

“I don’t care!”

He is really starting to rustle her fur! “Karkat made one for Terezi!”

That stopped him. Nepeta almost pushed the door all the way open, causing Sollux to stumble backward. Terezi was his meowrail, so it purrobably struck a nerve. “Do I have to make one for my path matethrprit too, or can I go there juth to thee it?”

“It’s fur everyone, and anyone can go at any time.”

“I’m taking that as a ‘no’.”

Nepeta growled.

“No promises.”

Finally! She squealed and took him by the wrist. He yanked himself away, insisting he could just follow her.

And follow her he did. He kept pace while she power-walked down the path. They didn’t speak, not even about the nippy weather. Nepeta tightens the furs around herself. Finally, they arrive. Sollux sees Terezi’s stone and heads straight for it, putting his paw on Karkat’s handwriting. It had faded slightly from weather, so she has to get him to come back and re-write it. She steps away to find the animal blood used to paint the letters.

“Here, just in case,” she says, putting the small container in front of the blank boulder meant for Aradia. He looks at it, then looks back at her, frowning behind his dual-colored specs.

And at that, she left without another word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title was brought to you by: Delain


	30. It's a Mystery!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be a short and sweet Halloween special, but here we are at the 2.8k words mark. What has my life come to? I'm kind of sad that I didn't include any of the kids in this one, but I might think about it in the future.

It turns out that once every year, people dress up funny. Some dress up as characters from their favorite TV shows and movies, and others dress up like monsters and scare the piss out of children for shits and giggles. With careful discretion, these same kids can go door to door and demand candy and hope not to get scared to death and run off screaming. At least, that’s what Kanaya explained.

This is the time of year that Kanaya and Karkat had decided to let everyone at Alternia Mansion to venture out and have some fun. And as usual, everyone except him thinks this is a _splendid_ idea.

“Karkat, this is an opportunity for you to be yourself for once,” Kanaya chides lightly. He huffs, convinced that she has no idea what she’s talking about. He doesn’t really want to expose his horns to humans. The embarrassing growths already make him feel out of place amongst his peers. “Besides, we would not all be matching if you wore your hat all night.”

“How about: it’s fucking cold so I can wear my goddamn hat if I fucking want to?” She shoots him a disapproving look. “Can I just stay in the boat instead?” he asks. Vriska was taking the night off too, for some reason. Everyone is in the boat, every adult and child troll, and it is more than a little cramped.

“Ship,” she corrects him.

“I don’t care!” He withdraws even further, crossing his arms even more and slinking down on the floor behind her.

“Settle down, you two!” Kanaya intercedes. “Vriska, please focus on getting us all there safely. We have precious cargo aboard.” She points to the children, pushing and shoving each other at the bow.

Karkat drags his fingers down his face. “The night is young, so no promises.” It is literally night, and it’s only seven-thirty. If they were on Alternia, that would be a very early morning and he’d have something better to do. Like sleeping.

“Of course!” Vriska agrees. “We wouldn’t want to get too wound up and lose someone, do we?”

Kanaya turns around to see Mituna about to throw Kankri overboard, yelling for him to shut up. Kanaya has tried to get Karkat to talk to him, but Karkat refuses. Karkat does not want to deal with that kid. He’s always spouting something, like a volcano that’s constantly erupting; it just goes on and on until it hits water. He watches her go take care of the situation, then giving Kurloz a what-for because he wasn’t doing his fucking job as Mituna’s moirail. Due to all this conflict, Kanaya felt it within her right to step in and auspisticize every time any of the young trolls got into an argument. She’s already their formal instructor and caretaker, so why does she go even farther for them than she should? It boggles the mind and he will never understand. He sympathizes, for sure, pities maybe…

“Just because we broke up, does not mean she is yours for the taking, Karkat,” Vriska says, breaking him away from his train of thought.

“Hah! You wish,” he mumbles more than he should. There was no energy behind it. He just doesn’t feel like denying it tonight.

“I’m so excited!” Feferi squeals from the water. She and Eridan had been swimming alongside the entire way to make room for the non-seadwellers. Meenah and Cronus were with them as well, thankfully. He’s not sure he can handle both douchefins and an underage troll redding for him. He can’t handle Feferi right now either, because it seems that she just zaps all his energy and uses it for her own bidding, which most of the time ended up being squealing like a newborn grub discovering a soft pillow. He just experienced that recently, when Aradia the second found her way to Karkat’s hive. Sollux wasn’t even angry, he just laughed. It’s to be expected from a kismesis. Karkat’ll get that asshole back, though. He glances at Sollux, who is struggling to hold Aradia in his arms. He’s flustered, and it’s Karkat’s turn to laugh, but from a distance.

Karkat wracks his thinkpan to find any other excuse to not go on this excursion.

“Land, ho!” Feferi yells. Sure enough, they have reached land. Fucking finally.

* * *

 

“And who are you supposed to be, young lady?” a human dressed up in an ugly black outfit with an awful pointed hat asks Meenah.

“I’m a troll!” she answers proudly, holding out her plastic bag as the lady drops in some pieces. This was the first hive of the night, and whoever has the most candy at the end gets all of it. She plans to win because she made that rule up.

“Aw, and you must be her brother!” Meenah turns to see that Cronus was right behind her. Meenah glares at him, wondering why he was following her. “You look like John Travolta!”

“Trick or treat!” he says in a funny voice. Meenah rolls her eyes.

The lady laughed heartily. “That was such a good impression, I’ll give you extra!” And she did. Meenah’s jaw dropped when the handful of candy landed in his bag.

“Well, watch this!” she says turning back to the lady. She wiggles her face fins, beaming.

“Well, isn’t that something! I’ll give you extra, too!” Meenah smiled broadly as the candy fell in her bag.

As soon as the lady closed the door, Cronus says, “No fair! I can’t wiggle my fins!”

Meenah raises her fingers to her lips like she’s blowing him a kiss, but raspberries instead, then dashes to the next hive.

* * *

 

“You know, I feel like this whole event is nothing but the tendrils of human capitalism extending its reach into the young minds of society.” Kankri was doing it again. “I have done some reading on this, and the real purpose for this holiday was to ward off evil. However, it seems that the adults, the ones who are actually responsible for perpetuating this strange holiday, seem to be inviting evil into their homes by opening the door to complete strangers. Of course, you could argue that the children are doing exactly the same thing, trusting whoever is behind that door to not scare them, thus the phrase, ‘trick or treat’.” Feferi did well to avoid him the past few years, but she couldn’t exactly leave him and the rest of her assigned group behind because Meenah and Cronus ran off! Glub! She still has Rufioh and Horuss to keep an eye on! She wishes those two would stop running off so much. Eridan was no help, but he started chasing after them and she lost him, too.

“Kankri, would you do auntie Feferi a favor?” she says, bending down to his level. He stopped bubbling—BABBLING. “Take Horuss and Rufioh to the door? I’ll be right here!” At the sidewalk.

“It would be my absolute honor, Feferi. Although technically, you’re not my aunt, since trolls don’t have aunts—”

“Don’t test me,” she whispers as terrifying as she could. She widened her eyes for effect, and it turned out effective. He nods emphatically and goes to the front door. She sighs with relief. She really needs Eridan right now. What she had was Sollux, who was focusing all his attention on Aradia. He was riling her up by tickling her, and he nearly dropped her a few times. Feferi wanted to suggest to let her run around, but then he said he’d need a leash. She didn’t know much about grubs, let alone lowblooded ones, and she wasn’t sure he was doing everything right. She chose not to say anything that’ll ruin the evening. Everyone should get along, and she believed that since the very beginning. Why is that so hard?

The three boys return with their candy. She swallows her pride and they all move on to the next hive.

* * *

 

“Porrim!” Meulin cries tearfully. “Meulin’s dress!” Nepeta jumps at the cry and sees that she is pointing to a fresh rip in the middle of her long, black skirt. It went above her knees, and Nepeta isn’t sure what to do. Furtunately, Porrim does know what to do and takes out her purrtable sewing kit.

“Nepeta!” she orders, “I need your claws.”

“What do you need Nepeta to do?” she says, extending them like Wolverine. It’s her new favorite movie. They just got it on DVD even though they don’t have a DVD player. She snuck into the movie theater once to watch it, fully disguised of course.

“No!” Meulin shrieks, covering herself. “Porrim made this! Don’t cut it off!”

“Meulin, relax,” Porrim coos, “we’re only making it look fit for the holiday. We will fix it later.” She turns to Nepeta. “I need you to make careful vertical cuts the same length as the accidental rip. It actually fits quite well with the evening.”

Nepeta cracks her neck and retracts one set of claws. She sits cross-legged in front of Meulin, who’s on the verge of tears. “I’m sorry,” she says quietly.

Nepeta shakes her head. She puts a paw on Meulin’s shoulder. “It was an accident. Porrim forgives you, see?” She points to Porrim who nods in appurroval. With her direction, Nepeta makes three cuts at a time, going all around the skirt. When they are finished, Meulin twirls in circles until she gets dizzy and Kurloz has to steady her.

“Personally, I find this holiday truly inspiring!” Aranea pipes up. Nepeta doesn’t spend much time with Aranea, but when she does, she’s almost always put off. She’s becoming a little too much like Vwiskers. Aranea is so nice, though. “You get to roam around and be whoever you want, and there’s nothing like getting what you want for it.” She walks up to Karkat and asks, “May I go with Latula and Meenah? We’ll be good.”

“No,” he answers gruffly.

“Are you aware that Meenah made a rule that whoever earns the most candy will get all of our candy?” Nepeta blinks. She’s purretty not sure that’s how humans celebrate the end of the holiday.

“Not my problem.”

Aranea stomps her foot, some glitter from her spiderweb-decorated dress falling off. Nepeta watches as every bit hits the ground and reflects the light. “Why not! You never let us do anything!”

“Sorry, but when you get to be my age, then you get to decide your well-being on this planet.” He swiftly turns her around and nudges her to the next hive.

* * *

 

“I want candy!” Mituna yells. Vriska is getting too old for this. Hell, _Mituna_ is getting too old for this. Babysitting isn’t really her strongest suit, but at least she has Kanaya to keep her company. She realllllllly wishes she had her sevenfold back, because then she could just _put_ him to sleep. It was actually a lot easier than straight-up controlling someone. Once you put someone to sleep, then they stay asleep until their thinkpans decide they’d had enough rest. Full control takes finesse. Unfortunately, at the moment she has no power over trolls. Yet. She’s been practicing on the newest grub with little success.

“Mituna, we have not even reached the first hive yet,” Kanaya says, “so please be patient.”

“Tuna, we have to behave or Meenah is going to get all the candy!” Latula whispers. Oh? Vriska’s interest is piqued. So they have a contest going?

“I know! I need to win!” he whispers way too loudly. He looks around and then books it to the nearest hive with decorations. “There they are!” He points to the front door and Vriska sees Meenah and Cronus by themselves. Kanaya scoffs, following Mituna. “Guyth, what are you doing!”

“Oh, shit!” Meenah squeaks, taking off and leaving Cronus behind. Kanaya chases after her, getting out her lipstick. Vriska decides to take on Cronus by grabbing his arm.

“So, what’s this I hear about a candy contest?” she asks. Cronus gulps.

* * *

 

“Meenah!” Kanaya calls, chasing after the now tallest troll in their group. She has grown the fastest for sure, and is most likely been training with Vriska in the art of stealth. She is darting around children and decorations as if she were built for avoiding obstacles. Kanaya has to wonder how fast she is underwater. She unscrews her lipstick, turning it into her chainsaw. She cannot risk switching it on, for there are children about.

All it takes for one glance backward for Meenah to notice the weapon, panic, and stumble over a curb. She goes down face-first onto the pavement. Fortunately for her, there were no cars allowed in this stretch of road; it was blocked off by the residents who live here. The whole reason they chose this place was because of its popularity, and the very fact that it was blocked off. By what she could tell about the reviews in the newspaper she bought last week, they neighborhood was pretty safe as well.

“What are you doing away from your assigned group?” she asks, putting the chainsaw away. A few onlookers glance at them, but keep going. This sort of thing must be normal here, then.

“Got bored,” she answers shortly, her scrapes already looking better.

Kanaya didn’t believe that for a second. She had heard what Mituna was saying about the candy, and she is positive they are having a competition, and that Meenah had invented it. “What about Cronus?”

“He tagged along, what’s the big deal?”

“The ‘big deal’ is that you were supposed to stay together!” She also wanted to separate her from Latula and Aranea, because those three are a notorious group of ne’er-do-wells. On the island, they would be fine, but in public, she has to keep her eye on them.

“Oh my cod, okay! Get off my back already!”

“And you’re not taking the others’ candy.”

“Water you talkin’ about?”

“I am talking about the contest that you invented to take advantage of the other children. It is uncouth and distressing to them. It nearly made Mituna—”

Meenah laughs, purposely interrupting. “I was kiddin’! Geez, these kids don’t know how ta take a joke.”

“Why did you run, then?”

“You came afta me with a chainsaw!”

“That was afterwards, and you know it.”

“Ya know, I’m sicka this. I wanna go home.”

“Fine, I will accompany you. The ferries are running extra trips tonight anyway.” Kanaya reaches for Meenah’s hand, but she pulls away.

“Get away from me!” She sidesteps Kanaya, making her way back to Vriska and the others. Kanaya decides to let it slide, since she was not comfortable with arguing anymore. Meenah was trying to have a good time, but her blatant disrespect for the rules was making her night downright unenjoyable, thanks to Kanaya. She hates playing the advocate, but sometimes it has to be done.

Kanaya follows her back to the group, where she joins Latula, arm in arm. Cronus was a tad put off at being the odd-one-out, so he tried to do the same with Mituna. He did not like that, so he linked arms with Latula. Kanaya took him by the arm and Vriska took his other one, dragging him along. They were an odd bunch, weren’t they?

* * *

 

They ended up almost missing the last ferry back to the rendezvous island. Rufioh’s horns were getting a lot of attention and small children were messing around with them a lot. Latula had fun, though. She got to spend some time alone with Mituna, even after Meenah and Cronus joined.

“Latula,” Meenah whispers on the crowded boat.

“What?” she replies, following her friend to a more isolated area.

“We’re like, fourteen in human age, right?”

She shrugs. “More like thirteen?”

“Waterever.” Meenah waves it off. “Kanaya promised us that when we turn human eighteen, we can move away and do what we want.” This is news to Latula. Kanaya must have been under duress. “I jus’ wanted ta ask if you would come with me when we did. Aranea, too.”

Latula had to pause and think. “What would we do?”

“I toldja, whatever we want!”

“I can’t just leave Mituna.”

“It’s not like we’re talkin’ about now! Who know what’ll happen in five years?”

Latula hadn’t thought of living without him. They’ve kind of always been together. “But if we were, can I still bring him?”

It’s Meenah’s turn to shrug. “I don’t sea why not.”

Latula smiles. “Rad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's title was brought to you by: the tendrils of human capitalism extending its reach into the young minds of society.


	31. Come Undone (or Avians and Apises)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter than usual, but I promise it'll be...  
>  _FINTASTIC._

Vriska laid panting on the shore, Eridan next to her. He isn’t struggling to catch his breath, which pisses her off. She rolls her head to him, squinting in the morning light. They’d finally had a break after last night’s candy run, waiting until the sugar made them crash. They were sprawled around the house somewhere, so she and Eridan had to go outside for their monthly beatdowns. And by beatdowns, she means a good black fuck.

All it took was a little prying away from Feferi. In all honesty, it didn’t take much on her part, she just had to convince the scarf-obsessed dweeb. She called him that, too.

“I guess we don’t have to wash our clothes now, huh?” she says, plopping the wet pile into the sand next to her.

“Considerin’ you just dropped them into the sand, I’d say now you do,” he fires back.

“Oh, shut up,” she mutters, sitting up. It’s pretty cold out. She figures it’s more or less Eridan’s skin temperature. The water is even colder, so he might be freezing his ass off, too. “I’m going back inside, no-gills.”

“Good riddance.”

“Hate you too, Danny boy.” As soon as she saw the mansion-hive, she remembered that she was completely naked. With any luck, the kids would still be asleep. She had to guess it was about eight in the morning right now. Her clothes are still wet, so she can’t necessarily put them back on without getting hypothermia, so she just trudges on.

As luck would have it, everyone is still asleep. Good. There are kids everywhere, on the couch, on the floor, on the stairs… She skillfully skirts the bodies.

“Captain?” a sleepy voice says from behind her. Crap. Vriska turns to see Aranea standing behind her, peeking out the door to the girls’ block. “Why are you naked?”

Vriska ponders for about half a second, debating a good time to start explaining blackrom. The girl is barely over six sweeps, so right now would be as good a time as any. “I was doing adult things with Eridan.”

“Like blackrom?”

“Precisely.” She rubs her arms, warming them up. “I’ll explain when I get dressed.”

“Okay.” Aranea nods, trying not to look so eager.

Vriska absconds to her block, gets changed, then collapses on her shitty excuse for a bed. She’ll explain everything after a nap. The all-night excursion really drained her. Aranea should be the first to know this stuff, because then she could explain it to everyone else, since she loves to talk so much. That girl basically remembers everything verbatim, so Vriska has to choose her words carefully. If she uses something too derogatory, then she’ll have another wonderful chat with Karkat, and by chat, she means he does all the talking while she ignores him.

Twenty minutes later, she can’t fall asleep and goes out to find Aranea, right where she left her.

Just outside the door.

“How long have you been sitting there?” Vriska asks.

“Since you closed your door. Actually, I went to go get a chair for both of us.” She points to two folding chairs behind her.

Vriska blinks at the scene. She considers testing if she could make Aranea could take the chairs with them to the attic, where they have more privacy. Needless to say, it doesn’t work. “Alright, Miss Suckup, let’s take these chairs to the attic and I’ll tell you all about the avians and the apises.” Vriska picks up one chair with one hand and sling it over her shoulder.

“The what?” Aranea tries to do the same, but nearly falls backward. Vriska stifles a laugh.

“You’ll understand when we get there.”

* * *

 

Eridan returns to a messy block. What the hell. He eyes Fef sitting on their sleeping area, which has promoted to a squeaky mattress, her knees drawn up high. She looks up at him like she just tearfully confessed to genocide.

“Fef, what the hell?” he asks, joining her on the bed.

“I can’t stay here anymore,” she whispers. Perfect pun opportunity wasted. She must be serious about it this time.

“Fef…” He puts a hand on her back and rubs it up and down. “Should I make a pile?” She nods. He gets up and compiles every bit of cloth that isn’t put away onto the bed behind her. She crawls into it when he finishes. “Good?” he asks as he joins her.

She sniffs, her gills nearly closing all the way. “Yeah…”

“So what happened this time?”

“I nearly blew up because of him again,” she explains. Of course. Kankri always had a big mouth, so this was understandable. It had been a few years, and Eridan was surprised she hasn’t lost her temper yet. She has patience, which provides enough tolerance for a lifetime, and explains why she is so fond of lowbloods.

“Don’t hate me but,” he says, “are you sure these aren’t latent black feelins?”

Her face twisted into disgust. “No!” she protests. “It’s completely platonic! Which is why I’m worried!” She returns to solemn distaste. “I don’t want to kill him, like before…”

“That was one time, Fef.”

“That one time was all it took, Eridan! You don’t understand!” Tears start to roll into the pile, which just makes him want to shooshpap her until she smiles again. “Because of that, I don’t think I can handle being around Kankri anymore. He’s overbearing and his dumb voice makes me want to rip my ears off.”

“Can I say somethin’?” She nods. “Where would you go?” And can he come with?

She pauses, then forms her words slowly. “Maybe underwater. I think that’d be fun.”

“Good, cuz I don’t think you’ll look good without your horns.”

“Glub!” She hits his shoulder playfully, wiping her eyes. She giggles, then cuddles into his chest. “Thanks, Eridan.”

He wraps his arms around her and strokes the back of her head. “No problem, Fef.”

* * *

 

Feferi cuddles into his chest, more for hiding her new tears than anything.

How is she going to tell him that she has already decided to go without him?

* * *

 

“VRISKA!” Karkat yells across the hive. He had just caught Aranea telling the other ten children about the avians and the apises, all in gory detail down to the buckets, right there in the living block. It’s not even noon yet.

“WHAAAAAAAAT!” she calls back from her hive, obviously annoyed. She was probably sleeping, but he doesn’t care right now.

“Get your ass down here, now!” He glares at Aranea sitting on the couch, all of the others next to her or on the floor.

As soon as Vriska comes down the stairs, she sighs heavily and loudly. “Why is it only my ass that ever gets invited places?” The children giggle.

“Any reason why your protégé is explaining buckets in gory detail?”

“You mean in full color?” More giggling. “Well, I figured it was time they knew about this stuff. You were red with Terezi when you were their age, so why not?”

That elicited some gasps from the group, along with more giggling, a lot of them asking who Terezi was. He shot a nervous glance to Latula, but the nervousness ended in a split second. He pinches the bridge of his snout and says, “Kanaya and I had a careful plan laid out, you know. Ease them into it, not get plunged into it with uninhibited whimsy.”

Vriska looks over the group and laughs to herself. “They look pretty cool about it to me, right guys?”

They all shout terms of agreement, turning against him. He feels an inkling of concern, but then he remembers: he doesn’t care what they think. “They’re too young for this shit.” Karkat was the only exception because Terezi had accidentally forced them to spend time with each other over a stupid journal. Fuck, he hadn’t thought about that journal in years.

“What do you mean by that?” Vriska asks innocently.

“I mean they don’t have the mental capacity to understand the consequences if they get out of control. They don’t have the depth of understanding yet of what it takes to maintain healthy long-term quadratic relationships. Now before you go off on me and say you already have relations with each other and are doing just fine, shut the fuck up for a minute and listen, you little shits.” He looks pointedly at the two red pairs and the one pale pair he’s aware of. “First of all, I don’t care who you’re with, as long as you keep it within the confines of your blocks upstairs. Second, it’s hard work to be in a relationship with someone you have certain feelings for.” Where the fuck is Kanaya when you need her? “Third, before any of you do anything concerning pailing of any kind, stop and think: do you really want to make this place even more crowded than it already it? Because I guarantee you that if I find a single bucket, I will promptly deliver it to the mother grub downstairs, watch and wait for it to hatch, and then chain the grub to the both of you until it grows arms and legs and has coherent thoughts of its own!” He pointed to the floor. “Lastly! _I_ will answer any questions you have regarding the maintenance of basic quadrants in private. I’m available for advice should you ever feel the need to deal with adolescence.” He sits down next to Aranea. “ _This one_ is hardly qualified.”

“Hey!” she exclaims, putting her hands on her hips.

“The truth is painful.”

* * *

 

Feferi takes one last look at the mansion-hive. Alternia Mansion had been her home for nearly three sweeps, or just under six earth years. She’s had a lot of fun, but her tyrian blood can’t handle being here anymore. She’s always had her lusus and Eridan to look after her when she was like this. Eridan had been a big help, but his overprotection and the lack of a lusus just made her dependent on herself. She began to wonder if her platonic love for lowbloods was simply pity, or worse: endurance. Without slime as well, those thoughts morphed into some searious doubts. She needed time, to gain perspective. Now that winter is over, she can try to find permanent work somewhere. She’s pretty sure it’s April now, and Kanaya said that’s when some employers put out notices for employment.

She can’t tell anyone. Not Karkat, not Kanaya, not Vriska, not Sollux… Not even Eridan. Oh, Eridan. It breaks her blood-pusher to have to do this to him.

“Fefurry?” Feferi gasps, freezing in her tracks. The sun had gone down, and there was no moon, so she couldn’t see Nepeta appearing beside her. “What’s going on?”

“I have to go.” It felt wrong to lie to her. “Don’t tell anyone until the morning. Just say I went out for a swim.”

“Why?”

“Just let them know. Can you do that fur me?” She added a cat pun in there, and smiled as she said it.

Nepeta whines and then Feferi is engulfed in a hug. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too.” She pats Nepeta’s head between her horns and slips away.

Armed with only a waterproof bag of clothing, she goes to one of the cliffs where she has swam before, and dives in. The drop is only about thirty feet, and the water is cool and refreshing. She swims a while underwater, using her gills to breathe. After a few hours, she breaks the surface, floating on her back for a bit, gazing at the stars.

The constellations are bright tonight. She can’t see Pisces this time of year, which looks uncannily similar to her sign, and decides to try to find the invisible moon instead. It shouldn’t be too difficult, since—

What is that?

An enormous, floating ship looks like it’s flying right over her. It’s heading straight for the metropolitan area at a leisurely pace. It’s dark, so she can’t see the color very well. The only places where she’s heard about flying ships is Prospit and Derse. But she’s pretty sure that both planets had been destroyed by Her Imperious Condescension, Feferi’s own ancestor. Because of the Empress’ disappearance, it made room for Feferi to take over. She read that there was only one of those ships left in the entire universe, and the thing flying overhead definitely seems to be exactly that.

It turns slightly, spiraling down in a very wide circle. It creeps closer to the water, sometimes flying directly overhead. She can see it land about a mile away. She can swim that in no time at all, so she follows. As she approaches it, she can see that it had been painted solid red with a giant white fork logo on the side and the bottom of the hull. She finds the chain and the anchor and grabs it, giving her legs a rest. They were almost at shore, so she must have been swimming for at least twenty miles.

Feferi climbs to the anchor, which dwarfs her in size and thickness, and sits on one of the ledges, swinging her legs back and forth. She hears laughing above her, probably by some children. If she stands up, she can see onto the top deck. She sees a family there, parents, two children, and a very tall woman overseeing them. The normal sized ones are sitting at a table, the adults on one side and the children on the other. The only faces she can see are the children’s. All of them have dark hair. The woman leaves for a moment, then comes back out with a large cake. The children screech with delight, barely able to contain themselves. Feferi smiles, knowing that it must have taken the woman all day to make it, and the kids were going glubbing insane. She was so busy watching the two of them go at it and didn’t notice the woman was taller than she seamed and was standing right in her vision. Feferi looks up at the woman, who stared down at her in return.

“Well, if it ain’t my glubbin’ descendant, here to fin-ally take my throne,” she sneers, smiling in a terrifying manner.

Feferi’s eyes widen underneath her goggles. No way. “Oh, mother glub,” she mutters shakily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's title is brought to you by: The Bird And The Bee


	32. Condesce's Daughter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is so late and I apologize. I went through quite a bit of a slump, BUT...  
> i also got a teaching job so that's awesome.

“WHAT?!” Eridan bellows first thing in the morning. Karkat wants to keep his eyes closed, but the sudden noise two blocks over destroyed any chance of getting extra sleep. Kanaya must have told him that she left. That was about a week ago. Karkat is actually surprised that Eridan was the last to know. Nepeta told Kanaya the next day, who then told Karkat a few minutes later, who kept his mouth shut for six whole days.

Some shooshing ensues, but Eridan just storms right to Karkat’s door and pounds on it.

“Kar, open up!” he demands. No. Fuck no. Since Karkat’s block is on the second floor, jumping out of the window seems like a good idea. He isn’t pale for Eridan, and any desperation is going to be turned away at the door.

Karkat wordlessly climbs out of the window, barefoot and freezing. Everywhere he looks is gray. The fog is gray, the midmorning dew still on the greenery is gray, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. Good. If he runs far enough, he could hide in the trees.

What Karkat still doesn’t understand is why Feferi left in the first place. She and Nepeta were basically best friends, so he should probably ask her. Maybe it was their lack of communication lately, but Nepeta was becoming more tolerable. He respected that she still wore her moirail’s colors. Karkat only met him once. That day was the absolute worst timing. Before, everything was mostly okay. He was under the protection of the highest caste, he had Terezi, and nothing reeked of conspiracy. Feferi seemed okay back then. What changed? Besides the whole “being jettisoned off their own planet” thing? It didn’t make any sense.

As if on cue, Nepeta shows up, Meulin in tow.

“Karkat? What are you doing up so purrly?” she asks.

“I’m on a walk, what does it look like?” he answers curtly, gesturing to the scenery.

She looks him up and down. “With no shoes?”

“I can’t be one with nature?”

“Did you sleep in those clothes?”

“No!”

Meulin giggles, Nepeta holding back an amused grin.

“I’m on a walk!”

“Okay, Karkat.” She turns to a tree with low branches and starts climbing up. His chance is slipping.

“Wait!” he shouts.

“Huh?”

“Can I ask you about Feferi?”

“Fefurry?”

“Yeah.” He summons his best interrogation expression. “I don’t want any bullshit. I just want to make that clear, you understand?”

She nods. “Okay.” She plops down on the ground, sending Meulin to go catch some breakfast. He doesn’t want to talk down to her, so he does the same. They should be far enough in the trees by now, so he tries to relax.

“You two were best friends, right?” Somehow.

“Yep! We talked about a lot of stuff.” She drifts off, suddenly looking melancholy.

“Did she even bother telling you that she left? Or why?”

Nepeta focuses back on him, eyes narrow. She nods again.

After a moment of silence, he reiterates the question. “So?”

“She only said that she was going fur a swim,” she sighs. “Nepeta has seen trolls come and go in her life, and when they tell you to lie for them, they usually don’t come back.” Karkat already knew that first part. It was the cover story that she told the rest of them.

“Well, I would have figured it was her turn anyway,” Karkat says. Nepeta tilts her head to the side, looking somewhat offended. “To run off, I mean. I did it with Sollux and Aradia, but look where it got her.” He pauses, leaning onto one hand and gripping his hair, and sighs. “Feferi’s a highblood, so she can’t really die that easily. She’ll be fine.” Karkat hopes she’ll be fine. Now he kind of sympathizes with how Kanaya felt when he left.

Nepeta gives him an amused half smile. “Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” Then she gives him a full-fledged I’m-really-cute-and-I-know-it grin.

Karkat just glares in return.

* * *

“Whiner…” Meenah mumbles to herself as she sneaks by Eridan banging on Karkat’s door in vain. She didn’t expect him to hear it, much less react in an over-exaggerated way.

“I am not!” he shouts. “Shut up!”

“Waterever. I’m hungry.”

“Meen!” Latula calls out. Meenah turns to see her frond jogging towards her. She stops at the top of the stairs. Huffing and panting, she says, “I really regret not bringing my skateboard. Anyway!” She puffs out her chest and puts her hands on her hips. “That’s all going to change! Do you want to go find a job with me?”

Meenah just blinks at her. “Are you glubbin’ insane?”

Latula blows a raspberry, hardly deflated by the question. “Pfft! No! We’re fourteen human years old now, so I think that’s plenty old enough to earn us some green.”

Green, huh? “Green, huh?” She thinks about what Vriska might have to say about that. After about half a second of thinking about it, she agrees. “Totes worth the ride with Vriska, don’t’cha think?”

Latula shudders, then answers, “Well, if she won’t, you’ll just have to swim us there.”

“Uh, no.” Meenah promptly goes down the stairs. “Like halibut I’m swimmin’ us all the way to shore, especially for a carp job.” She’s not towing a landdweller with her, either.

“Aw, come on!” Latula chases her all the way to the kitchen.

“I think I may be able to help,” Aranea says, appearifying out of nowhere. Meenah jumped at the sound of her voice.

“What?” Latula asks her. Meenah isn’t eeling jealous at all. Sure, they were all friends, but Aranea has her own agenda most of the time.

“With Vriska,” she says. Now Meenah’s interested.

“How you gon’ do that?” she asks, closing the gap in a split second.

“She’s been training me,” Aranea says with a smug smile about her. Meenah gapes at the spider troll.

“How long ya been sittin’ on this?”

She shrugs. “Since we landed.”

Meenah could have slapped her upside the head.

“Sounds rad!” Latula says. “Can you get Vriska to get us there?”

Aranea turns to her and winks. “No need. I’ve been getting lessons, too.” Meenah squints at her. She has an eeling in her organs that Aranea’s not telling the whole story.

“Hell yeah! Up top!” Latula holds out a hand to high five and Aranea returns it.

“There’s still one thing,” Meenah cuts in. The other two look and she points to her horns. The other two grimace, then Latula shrugs it off. “What?”

“I could just cover them up like Karkat,” she says. She then takes out a piece of linen and wraps her head in it, her horns making it stick up horribly. It just looked wrong on so many levels.

“Oh my cod,” Meenah says from behind a facepalm. “Don’t do that.” Any second now…

“Why not?” she asks, turning to Meenah.

“Good morning, ladies.” Kankri.

* * *

The thing Kanaya was most concerned about wasn’t that Feferi had run away, but the fact that she had done so alone. She had expected both her and Eridan would go together, since they were both in the red and pale quadrants with each other. Oftentimes, Kanaya would wonder how that could work. Do the pale feelings eventually evolve into red? Or were they simply using each other? Either way, it didn’t make any sense. If they were solely pale, then they would have made more of an effort to jam and try to work it out. She hates speculating, so she drops the subject.

“Have we let Eridan try to find her yet?” Karkat asks. Kanaya jumps slightly, not expecting him to actually come down to the basement to talk to her. She was tending the mother grub, who was going through some withdrawals. Her first hatching six months ago had been euphoric, and now she feels useless. Kanaya knows that feeling well.

“Hasn’t he already?” She figures he would have done so already.

“Someone tell _him_ then, because I’m already sick of his moping and it’s only been a week since she’s been gone!”

“Give him time.” She turns to him. “Why don’t you tell him in the meantime?”

“I’m avoiding him, remember?”

“Oh,” Kanaya says, deflated. She turns back to the lusus, who promptly rubs up against her. She rubs her lusus’ head between her horns. For a moment there, she thought that Karkat had come to talk.

“Fuck it, I’ll just tell him myself.” She hears him plop down on the bottom stair.

“Why not now?”

“I’m here to see you, that’s why.”

Blushing unexpectedly, Kanaya asks, “I see.” Why is this happening all of a sudden? She had decided right after Vriska had broken up with her that she’ll never be pale with anyone again.

Finally, the mother grub had calmed down enough to fall asleep, curling up in her usual spot in the corner. Even in the dank dirt, she finds comfort. Exhausted, Kanaya sits next to her and uses her as a pillow. The heavy breathing threatens to lull her to sleep. She notices Karkat staring at them curiously.

“Karkat, would you care to join me?” she offers quietly, petting her gently.

He makes a disgusted face. “I, uh…”

Kanaya smiles, amused. “She will not bite, even if she were awake.” She waves him over. “She is actually quite comfortable.”

He narrows his eyes, but approaches silently. Sticking out his hand to the lusus, he hesitates.

Kanaya takes his wrist and places his hand on the mother grub. She remains asleep. “See? Not quite so repulsive once you touch her.”

Karkat gulps. She lets him go and he rubs the mother grub back and forth. Her wings flutter at the motions.

“It appears she likes it,” Kanaya whispers, peering up to see his face.

“Yeah.” He lets out a short breath of relief. “She’s really hairy. But it’s nice.” He glances at Kanaya, possibly searching for approval in her expression.

The basement door opens again. “Kar? Kan? Anyone down here?” Eridan calls out. He doesn’t come down the stairs.

“Yes, Eridan?” Kanaya answers, looking away from Karkat. She tries to remain civil. He did lose his moirail after all.

“Fucking fuck…” Karkat mutters, storming to the stairs. “What the hell do you want?” He crosses his arms.

“Kar?” Eridan shoots a worried look to Kanaya, then back to Karkat. “Can I ask you something’?”

“Fine.” He trudges up the stairs, shutting the door loudly and leaving Kanaya in the dark.

She gives one final stroke to the mother grub’s side and follows them out. She opens the door and hears Karkat lecturing a desperate Eridan.

“I’m going to play the advocate here and say that… maybe she was just sick of your shit?”

“Wait! I remember now!” Eridan says a few seconds later. “It wasn’t my shit she was sick of, it was Kankri’s!”

Kanaya raises her eyebrows and interjects. “Kankri? Why do you think that?”

“Because, Kan!” he turns to her, still worried. “She told me!” He starts twisting his cape in his hands. It looks as if it is going to be ripped in two if he doesn’t calm down.

“I can believe that,” Karkat says, shrugging. Kanaya shoots him a look, but he is not paying attention. But enough of that. Why didn’t Feferi say anything? And how long had this been going on? What exactly had Kankri done?

“You’re not defendin’ him?”

“I’m pissed!”

“Karkat, may I speak with you?” Kanaya pulls him aside as she says this.

“Why don’t you search for her underwater?! You’re seadwellers for fuck’s sake!” he rants as she takes him away. Eridan didn’t answer, so she keeps dragging Karkat along.

“What is he talking about?”

“Kankri is a little shit.”

“Well, we are all aware of that, Karkat.”

Karkat frowns and sighs, putting his chin in his hand. “Nepeta told me that there was this one time Feferi was speaking with Kankri and he started spouting all sorts of bullshit that was blasphemous against my ancestor or something.” He ruffles his hair. “Don’t repeat that, though. She told me in confidence. To be completely honest, I wouldn’t put it past him.” She can’t help but agree.

Kanaya sighs. “This all seems very uncharacteristic.”

“For her? Yes. I agree.”

* * *

“Ya alone or what?” the Condesce asks her again, calmly this time. Feferi’s outer wounds had long since healed. It’s been like this for the past week. Her inner wounds were more like aches for food. “I’ll untie ya as soon as ya tell me.”

“Yes,” she finally says. She hasn’t spoken for days. She didn’t want to let her friends fall into her hands. Tied to a metal chair with some kind of plastic rope with no hope of breaking out, she looks up at her torturer. The ex-empress likes to do these things herself. “I’m alone.”

The Condesce takes out a sleek knife, a classic Alternian design that looked more like a ridged dirk. Feferi stares at it warily, wondering where she will be cut next. “I got a great spot for ya, then.” She cuts the ropes loose and drags the weakened Feferi to her feet by her forearm. The nest thing she knows, she’s being dragged through a tunnel and into the bright sun. She blinks wearily and sees the ocean. Is she going to throw her in? If so, Feferi is going to swim all the way back to the island and never leave again.

They stop just before the edge of the cliff. The Condesce orders a robotic lackey to remove a lid. Feferi looks down to see two of them removing a manhole cover from the ground. Feferi starts to gain some energy back as they revealed a pitch black hole underneath. She begins to hyperventilate and struggle from her ancestor’s grasp. All that did was get both of her arms restrained. She is breathing so fast that her gills don’t even bother closing.

“Ready to talk yet?” she asks sweetly. “There’s no way you got here on your own, so you must have come here with others. I ain’t gonna hurt ‘em.”

“Liar!”

“I thought we said no more name calling!” Day one consisted of beatings every time Feferi said an unkind word. She inches closer to the hole. “Oh well.”

The Condesce shoves Feferi into the hole. She screams until she hits water about fifteen meters down. The water itself is only one-and-a-half meters deep. It comes up to about her chest when she regains her balance. She had hit her butt on the bottom of the hole, which wasn’t smooth at all. The bruise forming will heal, but not for another few days. “Let me out!”

“I’m gonna have ta say no!” Feferi can see the cover sliding back over the hole, blacking out the sunlight. “ _Sea_ ya later!” Did she just use a pun?!

“Please, empress!”

They stopped. After a slight pause, she heard, “For that, I’ll feed you something tomorrow. And prolly something every other day.”

“You sea-bitch!” Feferi called out.

“Yes, yes I am!”

Then, total darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's title is brought to you by: Arcade Fire


	33. Intermission 1, Act 3: Follow You, Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I re-read I1A2 recently and thought that I wasn't really clear about the way I portrayed Roxy as a mother. I know that some people need their parents to believe that they have legitimate mental health issues, and I feel that a fictional mother character to understand that is really important nowadays. I hope this clears up any bias I may have shown.
> 
> Oh yeah, trigger warning for 9/11 if any of you are old enough to remember it. Or bombs. Or panic attacks. Apologies in advance.

TW: 9/11

gutsyGumshoe [GG] started pestering tipsyGnostalgic [TG] at 07:12

GG: Roxy, you awake?  
TG: ye  
GG: Remember when you told me that you were doing what was best for Rose by not giving her pills?  
GG: What exactly did you mean by that?

Roxy didn’t know where to begin. When she moved to Texas, she first noticed her daughter’s strange behavior. The doctors never gave her an exact diagnosis, and that scared Roxy to hell. One particular psychologist gave her a “50% chance of having either dissociative identity or avoidant personality disorder” and wanted to prescribe some experimental medication. Those results were far too low for Roxy’s taste so she dropped him like a sack of insects. The one she spent to most time with suggested therapy and speech classes when she Rose enrolled in school. He encouraged her to write a diary and try not to focus on others’ personalities so often, but her own.

TG: its complicated  
TG: but i tell ya  
TG: it was hard not getting offended as a mother  
TG: cuz when a doctor says ur kid has a mental disorder it kinda reflects on the parents  
TG: i learned that none of it is my fault or hers  
TG: these things happen sometimes and all we can do is deal w it  
GG: Wow, Rox, that was really deep.  
TG: for years i just thought rose was super impressionable  
TG: it scares me sometimes that she can soak up someone elses mannerisms and become some1 shes not  
GG: What? How does that work?  
TG: lemme give u an example  
TG: her first day of prek she bit me!  
TG: she never bit me ever!!  
GG: Prek?  
TG: sry “pre-k” and in “Pre-Kindergarten”  
TG: p much daycare  
GG: Gotcha. Sorry for interrupting.  
TG: sok  
TG: that’s okay*  
GG: Thanks.  
TG: ANYWAYZLE  
TG: we had a mommy/daughter talk after that  
TG: and it turned out there was this brat who bit some other kid after not sharing a snack  
TG: she picked up on that and now she knows how to bite people  
TG: she hasnt done it in 5 years but yknow  
GG: That sounds like quite the ordeal!  
GG: Jade and John haven’t bitten anything except food, so should I feel grateful they’re not enrolled in public school?  
TG: theyre 7 now right? so yeah id say so

Roxy leans back in her rolling chair and sighs at the ceiling. Now that she has moved to New York City, life has been slightly better. She found a school that had a good program for speech therapy and she has Rose keep a diary every day. Roxy decided that she will stop making her daughter share her entries when she’s ten. Which she will be this year. Roxy has also decided that Rose can start skipping grades when she starts middle school. Roxy remembers her middle school experience, being the only natural blonde who actually liked science. She has the seventies to thank for that.

She looks at her watch and realizes that she needs to go wake up Rose for school. The car line is always long and traffic is always terrible.

TG: hey janey sorry to cut this short but i gtg pick up my roes  
TG: rose*  
GG: Lol :B  
TG: omg that emoticon gets me every time  
TG: luv ya!

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] stopped pestering gutsyGumshoe [GG] at 07:45

* * *

 

timeausTestified [TT] started pestering golgothasTerror [GT] at 05:15

TT: You wouldn’t believe what happened yesterday.  
GT: What?  
TT: Dave finally landed a blow on me.  
TT: Took him about nine years.  
GT: Isnt he 9 years old?  
TT: As I said.  
GT: Wowzers he must have been proud!  
TT: He doesn’t exactly know he did it.  
GT: Why didnt you tell him?  
TT: Remember I told you about his ego problem?  
GT: Oh right.  
GT: Im sure glad john doesnt have an ego problem.  
GT: Hes so humble about things.  
GT: Except when pranking.  
GT: He gets that from jane.  
GT: Not the ego part of course.  
TT: Jane’s very humble about that stuff, right?  
GT: Indubitably.  
TT: Jake.  
GT: Dirk.  
TT: Do me a favor and never say that in my presence.  
GT: Why not?  
TT: Because it reminds me of Mary Poppins.  
GT: And what by thunder is wrong with mary poppins!  
TT: It reminds me of an island of magical babysitters, in which I can only tolerate one of them.  
TT: Never mind.

Dirk Strider will never watch that movie again without thinking of Kanaya’s island. That one field trip certainly was a trip. He’s starting to need her less and less now, which is fine, as long as she doesn’t tell Dave any more stories about it. It’s not that Dirk is prejudiced, he just can’t afford to let Dave blabber on and on about alien kids when one of the most famous companies in the world has an alien for a CEO. That’s the real reason he rejected Kanaya’s offer.

GT: Okay.  
GT: I forgot to tell you about the twins birthday!  
GT: Such tomfoolery.  
TT: Stop teasing me with your tomfoolishness.  
GT: Okay!  
GT: We got them the newest playstation but jade seems to beat john at everything!  
TT: Everyone knows that girls are better at video games than boys are.  
TT: Get with the program, Jake.  
GT: Bloody good at destroying zombies too.  
TT: Remind me to have her on my side then.  
GT: Shes 7!  
TT: Whatever.  
TT: Either way, your exuberant display of opulence does not go unnoticed.  
GT: Oh sorry.  
TT: Nah, you’re good.  
TT: On one hand, I’m jealous that Dave knows nothing of that life except when the other kids brag about their achievements.  
TT: But on the other, learning to use his rad skills passed from generation to generation in the Strider family is much more important.

Lies. Dirk taught himself the art of the flash step, and Dave was the only twin to inherit that power. Dirk never really thought about his ancestors and if they had any of those abilities, but then again, he was orphaned at age three so he has no inkling of any familial abilities.

GT: You told me you taught yourself.  
TT: Well then.  
TT: Congratulations Mr. English, you caught me in my lie.  
TT: Bravo, fifty points to Gryffindor.  
GT: Whats a gryffindor?  
TT: Oh my god.  
TT: Look, just make your shopper buy you the Harry Potter books.  
TT: There’s a movie coming out soon based on the first one.  
GT: Are they good.  
TT: If I’m recommending it, would it be terrible?  
GT: I guess not.  
GT: I will for sure check them out.  
TT: Good.

Dirk actually couldn’t believe Jake was awake at this hour. If he was awake, then Jane was awake, too. He tried to think of a reason why, like a birthday or special event, but such a random week in September didn’t spring anything to mind. Dirk is only awake at this hour because he just got home from work and can’t sleep yet. Dave is now responsible enough to walk himself home, having self-defense skills and a key. Lil Cal would also help babysit.

TT: So why are you awake at this ungodly hour anyway?  
GT: John has an art project due today so me and janey are helping him finish.  
TT: Isn’t he homeschooled?  
GT: Righto.  
TT: Wouldn’t it be counterintuitive to have your own teacher influence such an important piece of homework?  
GT: Jane calls it tutoring.

Dirk can’t help but snort out loud at that.

GT: I hope shell give us time to sleep before we have to turn it in.  
TT: Let’s hope she is as merciful as she is intelligent.  
GT: She is.  
TT: That was rhetorical and you know it.  
GT: I know.  
GT: Good night dirk!  
TT: Night.

timeausTestified [TT] stopped pestering golgothasTerror [GT] at 05:45

He shuts down his computer and makes his way to his room. He changes out of his work pants and into flannel pajama pants, and out of his regular polo, leaving his black tank on like he always does. As per usual, he sheds his pointed lenses and flips them upside down on his headboard before flopping onto his bed. Just before he closes his eyes, his PDA lights up with a notification from Pesterchum. He groans and reaches out to grab it, unplugging the device from the wall in the process. It was a name he’d never seen before, and they have already sent them six—make that seven—messages.

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] started pestering timeausTestified [TT] at 05:45

TG: omg  
TG: oh mygggoooddd  
TG: i know u ddont know me but  
TG: i knowu an im comin clean  
TG: im so sorry dirk  
TG: pls answer im frekaing out!!!  
TG: its roxy

Roxy?! Suddenly, the tiredness he felt was no more. She’s on Pesterchum? How did she get his user name? How was she? Freaking out, it looks like.

TT: What’s the matter?  
TG: I can hardly typ e omgg  
TT: Take a deep breath and clear your sight before you type.

A fully thirty seconds pass before she sends him a message.

TG: i heard some explosions  
TT: Where? Are you alright?  
TG: im ok but  
TG: i just dropped off rose at school and was driving and then heard a loud bang and then more bangs  
TG: turn on the news youll find out where i am  
TG: im goin back 4 rose right now even if i have to run there myself!

He doesn’t ask any further questions and does what she says. He heads over to the TV and flips it on.

TT: Any news station?  
TG: maybe??? idk ill get back to u cuz it looks like im runnin

The 5AM news broadcast had been covering the stories overnight. Nothing unusual, just robberies and late night car accidents…

Then it cuts to the anchors, who look very distressed about something. “We are receiving breaking news out of New York City this morning, where it looks like there’s been an explosion out of one of the World Trade Center towers…”

“Holy fuck,” he mutters. He immediately checks the PDA for more messages.

TG: i got her b4 they let them into class the school is in lockdown rn  
TG: im with them in the hallways trapped like rats  
TG: so much screaming  
TG: sry rose is in my arms and its hard to pay attention

So many things he wanted to say right now, like where the hell she’s been for the last six years, but now is not the time.

TT: I’m not going to ask why you’re in New York, because clearly, it’s not the right time. I’ll just trust that you will tell me later, for my sake.  
TT: You’ll be okay. Just hang on to Rose and don’t let go.  
TT: In fact, stop reading this right now and focus on huddling. She needs you to be strong and not to freak out.

He looks up just in time to see live a picture of the twin towers, and something crashing into one of them, exploding on impact. It made him jump. _Nothing_ makes Dirk Strider jump. Usually, images like that aren’t enough to startle him, but the fact that his family is in the thick of it… He shudders, feeling completely helpless. His heart pounds fast in his chest, his breaths uneven.

Dave. Dirk flashsteps to Dave’s room, trying not to trip over the ridiculous piles of shit everywhere.

“Dave, get up,” Dirk says gruffly.

“Bro, it’s not training day, leemeelone,” Dave grumbles, shoving Dirk away.

Dirk grabs ahold of the sheets and blanket with both hands and yanks them off the bed, sending Dave tumbling to the floor with a loud thump.

“Bro!” Dave yells, scrambling to a sitting position. “What the hell!”

“For a nine-year-old, you need to watch your fucking language.” Dirk yanks Dave up, dragging him by his elbow to the living room sofa. “You need to see this.” The mere fact that this was history in the making was only a part of it. Dave has no idea that his own mother and twin sister are in the middle of it as they speak. Does he dare say that, though?

“Is this real?” Dave asks with less anger in his voice. “It’s a movie, right? It can’t be real.”

“It’s real, Dave.” Dirk joins him on the shitty sofa. “Very real.”

“I’ve never even been there,” Dave says. “I just learned about them last week in social studies.” Then he whispers, “Crazy coincidence probably.” He stares, transfixed, as they watch the tower have something plane-sized crash into it.

It’s barely past six when his PDA alerts him again. Dave looks over, scoffs and turns back to the TV. Dirk sees four more messages appear rapid fire.

TG: HOLYTLY FUCK DHTERES ANTOHER ONE  
TG: IM REL  
TG: LLY SCA  
TG: RD  
TT: Roxy! Calm down and turn off your PDA! I will be here when you get back!  
TG: K

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] is offline

timeausTestified [TT] started pestering golgothasTerror [GT] at 06:04

TT: Jake.

No answer.

TT: Jake!

Stilll no answer after ten seconds.

TT: Jake, answer your goddamned messages!

They must have gone to bed. It’s times like these he wishes he had their number.

“Bro!” Dave shrieks, pointing at the screen. He looks to see a second plane-sized thing crash into the other tower. “Holy shit!”

“Come on, Jake,” Dirk breathes. “Please answer.” He tries Jane next.

timeausTestified [TT] started pestering gutsyGumshoe [GG] at 06:06

TT: Jane, are you awake? Please answer.  
GG: Dirk?  
TT: Oh thank Jesus. Where’s Jake?  
GG: He fell asleep on the kitchen table.  
GG: What’s going on?  
TT: Do you have a news source? A TV?  
GG: In my room, yes.  
TT: Turn it on. Any channel with the news will do.  
GG: Okay, I’m on my way. Should I wake up Jake?  
TT: No, let him sleep. He’ll find out soon enough.

Two minutes later, Dirk had been counting, she answers again.

GG: Oh my God.  
GG: This isn’t real.  
TT: It’s very real.  
GG: Do you think Roxy knows?  
TT: Oh yeah, she knows alright.

He’s not sure if Jane knows where Roxy is. She should, but if she doesn’t, he’s willing to take a calculated risk.

TT: She’s there.  
GG: SHE’S WHAT?!  
TT: Didn’t she tell you?  
TT: Hello?

So she didn’t know where Roxy was. Why would Roxy message him first? She’s better friends with Jane, so she should have been first. As far as he knows, he’s on the bottom of her friends list on Pesterchum, on or offline.

GT: DIRK WHAT IN SAM HILL IS GOING ON?!  
TT: Jake, this is no time for your antiquitous language!

Fuck it, he’s opening a memo.

timeausTestified [TT] opened a memo at 06:12: ROLAL  
golgothasTerror [GT] joins the memo  
gutsyGumshoe [GG] joins the memo

GG: What do you mean she’s there?!  
GT: I am also demanding an explanation!  
TT: Rose goes to school in that area, and she told me she can hear the explosions.  
TT: I told her to focus on Rose and to turn off her PDA.  
GG: Good plan.  
GT: Agreed.  
TT: Last communication with her was when the second tower was hit a little over ten minutes ago.  
GG: Geez, I’m really worried! Where was the school, do you know?  
TT: All she told me was that she heard both explosions and got out of her car and ran to go get Rose.  
TT: Their school is on lockdown, no one in, no one out.  
GT: That makes no bloody sense!  
GT: What if it hits their school next?  
GG: Jake, stop that!  
GG: I’m going to get the kids, be right back.  
TT: Aren’t you in the same room?  
GT: Well, we moved the kids to their own rooms.  
TT: I mean you and Jane.  
GT: She said it would be easier to have all three of us talk separately.

Dirk turns back to the TV, which had unmercifully gone to commercial. Dave is now watching Dirk intently.

“Who are you talking to?” Dave asks, concerned.

“Some of my friends are concerned. We have another friend up there right now.”

“No way! Do I know them?”

Dirk hesitates. He can’t ever tell Dave. Maybe one day when Roxy isn’t in danger, but not today. “No.” Slice a katana across his abdomen why don’t you.

“Oh,” Dave says, slightly dejected. “Are they okay?”

“So far.”

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] is online

TG: im so scared dirk  
TG: im cryign i a ms o sorry  
TT: I created a memo. Jake and Jane are there.  
TG: thx

A minute later, the coverage comes back, cameras trained on both towers, big black smoke coming out of both towers like a pair of fucked up smokestacks.

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] joins the memo

TG: hye guys im sorry  
GG: Roxy!  
GT: Roxy!  
GG: Are you okay?  
TG: 4 now yea im w rose and we r still in lockdown  
TG: theyre sayin they might let us out if the debris is contained  
TG: the sirens are rly loud  
TG: the towers were a blcok and a half away from her school  
GG: That must be terrifying!  
TG: hang on theyre letting us out bbs

The news drones on about the evacuation of local businesses and schools. Dirk keeps his eyes peeled for Roxy and Rose. Flashing surround both affected towers with ladders and hoses and police tape. The streets are littered with paper, debris, and smoke fills the air. Suddenly, a body lands on the ground next to the closest tower, right in the middle of the street.

Dirk immediately covers Dave’s eyes.

“Bro, what—” Dave squirms under his grip.

“You don’t need to see this,” Dirk assures him.

“ _You_ woke _me_ up!”

Another one makes impact before the video cuts back to the main anchors, who are visually disturbed by what just happened. “I know.” He lets Dave go. “Sorry.” He looks out the window facing the Betty Crocker factory, knowing that Jake and Jane are watching this same thing, equally horrified.

* * *

 

As Roxy takes Rose by the hand and they quickly exit the building and into the fray, Roxy reads the messages.

GG: I’ll be right back.  
GT: Why?  
GG: I am going to interrogate our mother.  
TT: Do you think she has something to do with this?  
GT: Willikers!  
GG: I hope she has answers.  
TT: Good luck.

Janey is going to interrogate the head-bitch-in-charge, huh? Attagirl. She must have figured out exactly how influential that woman can be. Roxy pockets the PDA, taking off her shirt and giving it to Rose as a mask, leaving on the spaghetti strap and bra.

“Rose, put this on,” Roxy orders as they walk.

“Okay, mom,” Rose answers obediently. Roxy slows slightly so Rose could stay with her among the chaos. As soon as the makeshift mask is on, both mother and daughter make for the only abandoned car in the area. Roxy hopes nothing was taken, because even for New York, that would be fucking rude. Fortunately, her car is still running, just how she left it.

As soon as Roxy’s hand opens the door, she hears crunching. No time to react. She shoves her daughter in, gets in herself, and slams her foot on the gas pedal. Tires squealing, she takes off, thankful that the road around her is clear enough to drive away. In her rear-view mirror, a giant cloud of dust chases them. One of the towers must have collapsed.

Roxy decides not to dwell too much on the sitch and get the fuck out of dodge like a bat out of hell.

* * *

 

TT: So are we all okay now?  
TG: yup  
GG: Besides a minor heart attack, I think I’ll be fine.  
TT: Jake?  
GG: Yeah, he’s on the floor.  
TG: pfft why?  
GG: He fainted when I left.  
TT: That reminds me. What did she say?  
GG: Aside from the fact that I woke her up at her own desk, she appeared…  
TG: amused prolly  
GG: Exactly the opposite.  
TT: What?  
GG: She seemed devastated.  
TG: im callin shenanigans  
GG: She told me they had a really prominent department in one of those towers.  
TG: whoa why am i feelin like shit now?  
GG: I could have sworn her tears were magenta.  
TT: Weird. All accounts, I mean.  
GG: Quite.  
GG: Oh, I have to go.  
TG: whats goin on?  
GG: I think Jade woke up from a nightmare again.  
TT: Does that happen a lot?  
GG: From time to time, she gets horrible nightmares.  
TG: bout what  
GG: She doesn’t tell me.  
TG: aww u give her a hug thoigh, right?  
TG: though*  
GG: Always.  
TG: well thats all the advice i can give ya then  
GG: Thank you, Roxy. :B

gutsyGumshoe [GG] has left the memo.

“Bro, do I get ready for school or what?” Dave asks, interrupting Dirk’s thoughts. He looks up from the PDA and sees Dave standing in front of the TV, the video of the towers falling on a loop.

Dirk lets out a short, frustrated sigh. “Tell you what, I’ll call us both in. It’s going to be a special training day.”

“Fuck yeah!” Dave exclaims, pumping a fist into the air.

“Hey, watch the fucking language or I’ll get out Lil Cal again.”

“Shi—shitake mushrooms!”

“That’s better.”

“What are we gonna do today?” Dave asks, going to his room.

“It’s a surprise.” Dirk has no fucking idea what to do today. Probably race around the city again. Dirk beat Dave the last time, even with the judicial order to keep him off rooftops in effect.

TT: Hey, I have to bounce, too.  
TT: Keeping Dave from school today.  
TT: Later Rox. Jake.  
TT: Whenever he wakes up.  
TG: byebyeee

timeausTestified [TT] has left the memo  
tipsyGnostalgic [TG] has left the memo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's title was brought to you by: Nero, and The XX


	34. I Won't Cry For You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, now that I have your attention, things are coming together.  
> THERE IS A SPECIAL MEETING AHEAD. YOU ALL DESERVE IT.

Meenah stares at the bag of belongings that everyone shared. Today is the day. Feferi’s been missing about seven months and Meenah is convinced that she ran away. And tonight, everyone will follow suit. She takes a deep breath and picks it up to give to Aranea. The plan is to have her make Vriska take the non-seadwellers out to the island and then simply not come back.

“Christmas shopping?” Vriska asks Aranea incredulously. The plan was to get everyone to make Vriska take them Christmas shopping. The bag the size of a whale would hold all the “presents” for everyone, when in reality, it’s holding all their stuff. Vriska raises her eyebrow. “You want me to believe that every single one of you except the seadwellers want to go shopping for the adults?” Shit, the plan is falling apart! Think fast, Meenah!

“Aranea!” she shouts. “What were you glubbin’ thinkin’, goin’ without me!” She storms over to Aranea and throws an arm over her shoulder, making them both slouch under the weight.

“W-well, I was thinking—” Aranea stammers. Meenah interrupts by putting a finger over Aranea’s lips and glaring into the spider troll’s eyes, hoping to say, “Shut up and I’ll take care of it.”

“Don’tcha think I had some ideas a my own?”

Aranea blinks, then swipes Meenah’s hand away. “Of course I did! I was just thinking that you would like to be surprised, that’s all.” She laughs nervously. “But it appears I was wrong. Bring Cronus as well, I am sure he would love to join us.”

Meenah groans, throwing her head back in disgust. “Fine!” She forgot about that guy. _Coddamn it, Aranea_ , Meenah thinks to herself.

* * *

 

Vriska finds herself in her boat outside the city of Seattle, wondering what the hell she was doing there in her normal pirate garb. Tonight was her night to be out on the town, but she usually dresses up for the occasion. Right now, she is not early, but she doesn’t have the resources nor the time to go back and change. She sees a familiar figure sleeping on a bench up the dock. Her boat is also tied to the dock, she notices.

Why does she not remember any of this?

She hops out of her boat and approaches the familiar figure, kicking him awake. “Gamzee, get up,” she orders.

He jolts awake, nearly falling off the bench. “Spidersis, ya gotta warn a brother before wakin him up all rudelike an’ shit!” he retaliates, catching his breath. He’s sprawled out on the bench, bracing himself. “You’re early.”

She raises an eyebrow, then sighs exasper8tedly, debating even telling him what happened in the first place. It’d be embarrassing if she confessed that she had no memories of the journey, or the reason being there at all. “I thought it was time for a change.”

“Okay, whatever,” he says with a doofy grin.

“Are you going to stare at me like a dribbling fool or are you going to help me find something nice to provide our extremely large family?”

* * *

 

What. The fuck. Karkat finds Kanaya in the basement with the mother grub, surrounded by buckets.

“What the fuck is this?” he asks, already knowing the answer.

“I suppose you mean the reason, not the situation itself?” Kanaya says, trying to clarify.

“Both would be a better alternative.” Aradia is turning out okay, considering. But she’s only one more mouth to feed. Now that there are about ten buckets down here… that’s ten more mouths to feed. Eight adults plus twelve growing trolls plus these ten? It’s going to be hell when they hatch. The practicality is basically impossible. Whose are they, anyway?

“I bet you are wondering whose these are,” Kanaya says.

“How perceptive.” He inches closer, warily looking into them.

Kanaya points to the closest bucket to herself. “This one appears to have a mixture of both olive and purple, which I can only assume to be Meulin and Kurloz’s.” Karkat raises his eyebrows, not entirely surprised. Kanaya moves on to another. “This one is teal and yellow. And over there looks like brown and indigo.Additionally, I see cobalt and fuchsia.”

“I’m going to strangle at least all of them for this,” Karkat grumbles. “What the fuck were they thinking?!”

“Come to think of it, I have not seen them all day.”

“They’re probably sleeping in, like sensible trolls.”

“Would you go look for them? I need to tend to these buckets. The mother grub will need some guidance to fertilize all of these by tonight.”

“Fine.” He hesitates before asking, “Do you need any help?”

“For the time being, I am alright. I might need some support around midnight. She needs to feed then.”

“Sure.”

“Make sure you are clean! She doesn’t like her food unwashed!” Was that supposed to be a joke? He hears her laugh to herself when he ignores her.

He climbs the stairs. When he gets to the top, his heart is racing. He must be out of shape. He really needs to start training with a weapon again.

* * *

 

“Kanaya, they’re gone!” Karkat says, bursting in not a moment too soon. Midnight approached too soon, and the mother grub only had the capabilities for six buckets tonight. She will attempt this again in the morning.

“They are probably just playing hunt and seek,” she answers exasperatedly. She is utterly exhausted and needs to sleep. Yawning, she stretches her back by raising her arms above her head.

“You’re not understanding the situation here,” Karkat says, sounding frustrated. He stomps down the stairs and practically shoves her up the stairs. “You’ll see what I mean.” She blinks in the kitchen light, Karkat not waiting for her vision to adjust. For one thing, she notices that the house is quiet for this hour. Usually, at least one of them would be running about.

He leads her to their block, which is empty. She stands there in utter shock. “Where…?” Even Porrim? She pushes past Karkat to the next block, throws open the curtain, and sees no sewing machine.

They were gone. All gone.

She must look for them.

* * *

 

Nepeta saw the writing on the wall. Meulin wasn’t talking much anymore, she was withdrawn, and she was lying about chores to get out of hunting. Now that Kanaya was in a tizzy looking for them, Nepeta was sad, but not surprised. She decides right then to never tell Kanaya that.

* * *

 

But it’s not like Gamzee ever hung out with his alleged descendant that much anyways. He’s always been aloof and with his lil sweettroll. Besides, it’s not like they’ll be gone forever. At least not until they move out of his abandoned building that he let them use until they get jobs or someshit. They made him promise not to say a word. So he won’t. Trust is the most important motherfuckin’ part of life.

* * *

 

Vriska didn’t know what to tell Kanaya when she returned to the island empty handed. Gamzee said he would look, but he’ll probably forget by the morning. She looks out to the mainland as she sails away, the sun rising over the cliffs. This would be the first time in nearly ten years that she’d be returning to an island without tiny troll children to annoy her. Well, except for that time that Karkat and Sollux left. That was fun. On the bright side, she could cut down her hours and sleep for once. Maybe she’ll save money to upgrade her ship and equipment.

So much to do, all the time in the world to do it.

* * *

 

“What was on the list again?” Karkat asks Kanaya. It’s been almost two years since Feferi has been gone, and there’s been no trace. As far as Karkat knows, Eridan is still searching. Poor guy. He’s only become even more of a douchebag since. He sighs to himself in an exaggerated manner just thinking about it. He’s had to step up his game since the grubs hatched, and he’s not very happy going it alone with Nepeta. Sollux sits at his computer all day doing who-knows-what, so he doesn’t count. He doesn’t even do anything with Aradia much anymore because she’s learned that being outside is much cooler than inside playing games for children. Or whatever the fuck he does.

“We need bread and a new sewing kit,” she answers. Since Porrim left with the very expensive sewing machine this past Christmas, they’ve been in denial about the mending everyone’s clothing needed. Kanaya herself was convinced that they would come back. Karkat isn’t banking on it. Wherever those trolls have been for the past five months, they haven’t written or called.

Vriska and Kanaya bought a family cell phone for “Christmas”, so just paying that bill drains the funds for better clothes, too. Kanaya has been more than resourceful with what they had, but what they had was falling apart.

Thankfully, they gave the phone to Karkat today. He thanks the universe for this piece of garbage because he was sick of Miss Red’s smelly diner and her judgmental face. This piece of garbage can’t hold a crucible to the technology back on Alternia, but he shouldn’t complain.

A sharp wind blows through him, making him shiver. Kanaya notices. Fuck.

“Would you like the cape?” she asks, offering a portion by opening up half of it. She isn’t the most warm being on the planet, because of her blood color, so the gesture is moot. All he’ll do is overheat her.

“I’ve survived snow in less clothing, but thanks,” he replies.

“Oh,” she says, turning green and looking away. “Suit yourself,” she mumbles.

God. Damn. It. Now he’s flushing. Fuck. Wait. No.

“I mean, it’s fucking April, it should be warm now.” He changes the subject. “So have we heard from Dirk and Dave lately?”

She turns back to him, her expression normal again. “Not for a few years now. Dirk stopped contacting me last summer. He told me that Dave is now independent enough to look after himself after school.” She smiles, proud of that fact. He can’t really understand how looking after a child that isn’t even your descendant could have merit. All he knows is that it makes Kanaya happy. “However, it is strange that he has not asked for help since his work place exploded.”

“Damn shame,” Karkat breathes, somewhat relieved. He’s—wait, “Exploded?” he asks.

“He worked up in that factory,” she answers, pointing to the mountain, the ziggurat of the city. “It exploded two weeks ago.” Karkat follows her finger all the way up to the intact building.

“If that building exploded, then it wouldn’t be there anymore.”

“It exploded on the inside.”

“I think you mean imploded.”

“Ah.” A pause. “It imploded, then.”

“If I were him, I’d ransack the place for parts, then sell them and live off the profits.”

“In any case, I suppose he won’t need me anymore. We have arrived.” Karkat looks up at the fabric store sign. The lights were on, even though the sun hadn’t gone down yet. The store itself was larger than life, and even the colors matched Kanaya’s blood color, so if she got a job here, that would be great. “My interview should only be half an hour, so please go to the store and get the items we require while you wait.”

“I know how to kill time, Kanaya.”

“Thank you.” She removes her cape and gives it to him. “It is supposed to get even colder, so please wear this.” She smiles at him and goes inside. He can see her through the automatic glass doors as she takes a deep breath and asks a worker for instructions. The “NOW HIRING” sign inquires a need for teachers for sewing classes, so Kanaya jumped right on it and began preparing yesterday. Karkat hopes she gets it, because then she’ll be doing what she loves. He rubs the flush off his face and puts on the cape.

Exactly half an hour later, he comes back to the store to find no one waiting for him. He goes inside, but literally none of the unmotivated part-timers even cared to ask what her name was or call her over the speaker system. He stalks out, fed up with the crappy service, and looks for some place close by to sit and not get ousted for being homeless. The cape had seen better days, and today was not one of them. It had some holes and was fraying, but it was still warm, and coats are fucking expensive.

In the time it took for him to finish his inner grumblings about the cold, he had gone about a mile and found himself in a public park. “At least it has benches,” he mutters, plopping down on one of them. He wraps his coat tighter and pulls his beanie snug, and finds a newspaper underneath him. Newspapers are surprisingly warm, he’s discovered over the years. He couldn’t care less about the content. He takes it apart and drapes the pieces over him and lays down. “Maybe I’ll actually get some shuteye…”

Not ten seconds after he closes his eyes, he hears the swing set creaking. Some weirdo must be out this late.

Not two minutes after that, he hears sniffling. It sounds like a child. Maybe if he ignores it, it’ll go away.

Then the crying starts. Not the small sobs, oh no. This crying is full-fledged “I’ll hold my breath if I don’t get what I want” crying.

“Oh, shut. UP!” he yells, and she turns to face him. “I’m trying to sleep here and not to have night terrors and here you are, being one!” He sits up, scattering the newspapers. “Do you know how hard it is when I don’t have any fucking slime? I hate this planet! I hate children!” Okay, he was exaggerating. He hates how they act. The new grubs climbing all over him every second of every damn day wasn’t helping.

“Well, I hate you, too!” she shouts back. What did she just say to him? Who does this small human think she is?! She gets up from the swing and walks toward him, angry tears streaming down. Her long, black hair is tangled, like she was running all day in them. Wait, are those medical fibers?

“What the fuck, why are you coming near me, human?” he stammers, curling against the bench and away from her. For all he knew, she was supposed to be quarantined. “Don’t come near me, you’re wearing medical fibers!” Instead of leaving, she makes fists and starts to punch him. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s annoying. “Ow, hey! Stop that!”

That’s it. He grabs her wrists and she shrieks, trying to pull away.

“You listen here, small human, I am more powerful than you are, so you have no chance! Now when I let you go, will you stop hitting me?” The girl nods. “Okay then.” He lets go and put his legs back on the ground. “That’s better. And congratulations, I am now infected with whatever disease they quarantined you for.” Unsolicited, she kicks his shins.

“You’re mean!” she shouts, throwing her fists out to her sides in a tantrum. “And you’re already sick, fuckass! You have weird skin and weird clothes! I hate you!” It’s true, but he’s way too insulted to not care.

“Why, you little—!” He reaches for her shoulders and misses, falling forward to his knees. Damn, this child is quick!

“Karkat!” Kanaya shouts from behind. Shit. They both turn to her. “There you are! You had me worried sick! Well, all of us anyway.” She’s wearing a new dress. Where the hell did she get it? Did she make it?

Karkat can feel his face turn red with embarrassment. “S-sorry, Kanaya,” he mutters. Shamefully, he crouches down to his ankles and pulls his hat over his eyes.

“Karkat?” the girl pronounces carefully, touching his face. “Do you have a stomach ache?” What in the fuck is happening right now?

“What? No, I—” He cuts himself off, realizing that this little girl called him a fuckass and abused him, and lifts the beanie from his eyes. He meets the little human girl’s eyes. Pursing his lips and choosing his words, he says, “I’m fine.” Back when the others left, he promised Kanaya not to be violent towards children anymore. They argued so many times about who was to blame for their running away. Kanaya never outwardly said it, but she alluded to his anger being a factor.

“Oh, thank goodness!” Kanaya breathes. She approaches and turns to the girl, and bends down to her level. “Hello there, what is your name?” she asks sweetly.

“I don’t remember, but I named myself Jaya!” Very frank. No bullshit to be found. The only redeeming quality about children.

“Such a pretty name, Jaya.” Kanaya shoots Karkat a look. He crosses his arms and huffs. “Let us go to the authority regulation headquarters and find your parents, okay?” Karkat wonders if he protests now, will they go home before the last ferry leaves in an hour?

“Okay!” she replies, nodding enthusiastically. Kanaya takes her hand and beckons him to follow. Karkat shakes his head no. Kanaya says yes. Karkat replies no. Kanaya gives him her best pleading expression. Karkat rolls his eyes, sighing. Karkat says fine, as long as they walk fast.

They walk down the street, holding hands in a three-person line with the Jaya human in between. Thankfully, the local authority regulation station is nearby, so they don’t have to walk as far. The girl smiles the entire time, like she’s on a field trip. He even catches her trying to skip.

When a cruiser with sirens blaring rushes past them, Jaya stops. Karkat can see she is wide-eyed. Then she falls to her knees and starts sobbing again. For the love of all that is holy—

“No, no, no, no, no!” she chants over and over. The siren must have triggered her. If he’s learned anything useful from his own fucking descendant, it’s that some triggers are that debilitating. She sobs uncontrollably until Kanaya picks her up, hugging the small child closely.

“No, shh it’s okay, do not be sad,” she says gently, petting Jaya’s hair while she clutches to the motherly troll. “We will go to our place instead!”

“What?!” Karkat protests. He protests so hard. Kanaya shoots him another look. He shrugs, gesturing rapidly and in all directions.

“Hey, Jaya, how does that sound? Good?” Jaya nods against Kanaya’s shoulder. “You can stay for a couple days, okay?” Jaya nods again, still not showing her face. Kanaya turns in the other direction and Karkat follows.

“Kanaya, what are you thinking?” he whispers in a hushed tone. They had already wasted half an hour getting to the station, now they need to get to the ferry, and fast.

“Karkat, call Sollux and tell him to use his hacking skills to find out who she is,” she orders him.

“But I haven’t talked to him in months!” Again, the damn computer.

“Just do it. We need to find her family.”

“Ugh, fine,” Karkat groans. The last thing they need is another mouth to feed. He dials the number to the hive. Sollux picks up. “Hey, asshole,” Karkat says.

“You’re sunny this evening,” he replies.

“Sunnier than the pure light coming out of my ass.” He clears his throat quietly. “Listen, we need you to use your superb hacking skills to break into the internet and—”

“Firtht of all, you can’t break into the internet. It’th free now.”

“Could you shut up for a fucking second?!” He mutters, “Christ,” under his breath. “There’s a human here, long black hair, green eyes, maybe eight. Find out if she’s missing.”

“Human?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay…” Karkat hears typing sounds in the background. “Why?”

“Kanaya wants to take her in.”

“Another orphan?” Sollux sighs.

“Yup,” Karkat agrees.

“Give me until the morning.”

“Thanks.” He’s about to hang up when he looks at the time on the phone. “We might not make it back tonight anyway. Any way Vriska can come pick us up before then?”

“I wouldn’t wake the thleeping thpider if I were me.”

“Damn it, Sollux, you fucking suck.”

“Ith that an offer?”

“No it’s not a fucking offer!” Karkat hangs up and throws the phone against the nearest wall, which happens to be brick. He apologizes to Kanaya and retrieves it, shocked and appalled at the fact that it was still working. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's title was brought to you by: Lady Gaga


	35. Intermission 2, Act 4: Needle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some surprises and some cute moments and some stuff we knew would happen.  
> TW: brief description of bloodshed.

The hardest thing she had to do tonight was leave Jade. It wasn’t hard to leave mother, however.

But what had they done to deserve this? The whole factory was collapsing, and for what? Because of an ex-employee that may have had problems with Jake? Their mother? Both? Even if it did escape her notice for once. Mother had been living for a long time, perhaps whatever happened was before her time. Something of that magnitude was more than just simple unrest between an ex-worker and an ex-boss.

Her first step was to take one of the motorboats to the rendezvous island that mother had talked about. She and Jake had only been there once, in their childhood. It was a large mansion, rundown somewhat, but a perfect getaway spot until mother abandoned the project. She said it was taking too much time from their studies.

“What studies?” Jane mumbles to herself. “More like glorified chores with a dash of hell.” She briefly checks on John through the warm-looking cockpit window, who fell asleep earlier, then resumes trying to fill up the boat with gas. The only thing that’s astounding her at the moment was where to fill up the stupid thing. She walked all around the outside and didn’t find anything that looked like a gas flap. Maybe it was near the motor?

Jane thinks back to when her mother announced they would never go back. It was the summer she turned ten. A lot of things happened back then that she doesn’t want to think about, and none of them were the reason why. Jane thinks that mother just wanted an excuse not to leave. That flying boat was quite an experience, though. She was scared to death when John nearly leapt off the side.

“Ah-ha!” Jane exclaims, finding the gas tank at last. She fills it up and rushes to turn the key in the cockpit. John is awake now. She celebrates when the boat comes to life.

“Where’s Jade and dad?” he asks.

“They will join us later,” she responds. She hopes.

* * *

 

Jake must have chased the man through literally every circle of fiery hell before running into what could easily be considered one of his nightmares.

The beast has Jack’s face, but with large wings and a jester hat atop his head and a single arm holding a sharp-looking sword. He puts up his mitts, ready for a round or two with him.

Jake remembers the day he was fired as clear as day. Jake had snuck down to the factory on a dare with John, who was tagging along to make sure his good old dad succeeded. Jack had been caught red-handed by mother stealing important documents. She was about to be stabbed from behind by the man in the rare occasion that she turned her back on the enemy. Jake did the noble thing and pushed her out of the way, grabbing the knife, and pushing it to Jack’s throat instead. Jake made the perpetrator back out of the room with only his life, threatening to return. This made Jake say some things he shouldn’t have. Like threatening him back.

Only now does he realize his dire mistake.

“Jake English, we meet again,” the beast says, “and look who has the bigger knife.”

Jake didn’t feel the stab at first, but then he coughed blood. He looked down and saw the tip of the blade sticking out of his stomach, and looked back up to see Jack’s face again, closer. Jake wanted to give him a piece of his mind as some sort of predetermined last bit of saying things… but his mind was mush and all he could manage was gurgling.

“Adios, asshole,” Jack mutters, stabbing Jake six more times.

Jake stumbles forth, reaching for Jack, but touching nothing. The mansion burns around him, and he feels the flames lapping his skin, singing his leg hairs. He feels a hard kick to his side, like someone tripped over him, and sees his mother carrying his daughter to safety.

Thank goodness.

* * *

 

Your name is John Egbert, and you are driving the boat!

* * *

 

“Oh, no you don’t!” Jane says as she returns from releasing the boat from the dock. He continues to turn the wheel back and forth, pretending to steer through rocks. She chuckles lightly, entertained by his antics.

One thing she thinks she can try to figure out is how to operate the foreign machinery. The lever to the side says “forward”, so she tries it. It seems to work. She pushes a button on the remote and the boat shack doors open for her.

The night awaits them.

Hopefully, safety will, too.

* * *

 

She gets to an island by following a map she found in the storage compartment earlier. It wasn’t the mansion island, but it was close, and they were tired. She ties the boat to a dock and nearly rams a rude woman dressed as a pirate doing so.

“Kindly get the fuck out of my way,” she sneers, “I’m on a schedule.”

Jane makes a face at her, considering to give her a certain finger, but ignoring it. She doesn’t want to be a bad example in front of John.

“Hi!” John shouts, waving.

“Bye!” the rude pirate woman replies before sailing away.

“I liked her,” John tells Jane, “She looked like a pirate.”

“Let’s hope your paths never cross again,” Jane tells him, “Pirates are not always like the ones on TV.”

“Where are we going, mommy?” he asks as soon as they disembark the boat. She takes John’s hand and they walk into town.

She checks for her wallet, which has her mother’s cards and cash in it. “A hotel.” They have roughly a fortune to spend.

“What’s a hotel?”

“It’s a place where people stay for a short time.”

“Like the factory?”

She chuckles. “No, not quite.” She eyes a tourist kiosk and asks for directions. The nearest hotel is a bed & breakfast, about three blocks away. She thanks them and they head there.

“Where’s Jade and dad?” he asks again. “Will they be at the hotel?”

“We’ll see.”

* * *

 

Over two weeks of dead end after dead end. Jane is not happy about the results of searching for the island. It’s like it’s been rubbed out of every map. She was sure it was close by. She debates searching for it herself, but without any skills in navigation and no one willing to help, she has no hope of getting there without getting lost.

She can’t help John’s crying for his sister and father. He misses them terribly and pushes Jane away. It pains her deeply. She needs to find them, too.

“Miss Red,” Jane says to the woman who owns the local diner.

“Miss Jane!” the red-haired woman exclaims. “What can I do for you?”

“Could you watch John for a few hours? I need to go to the mainland.”

“Now Miss Jane,” Miss Red says, looking very stern, “I can make no promises that he won’t ruin my restaurant like he did the last time.”

Ah yes, the time when John answered the phone “city morgue”; and who could forget the “I switched the salt and sugar shakers by accident” incident?

“You might see them as petty pranks, but I do not.” Then she gave Jane the “talk to him or I will sell him to the glue factory” look.

Jane sighs and turns to her prodigy of a son. “John, I know it might be fun at the time, but we aren’t at our home anymore. Pranks are looked down upon here.” She narrows her eyes. “If you make Miss Red yell at you, I will personally spank you right here, in front of everyone. Are we clear?”

John nods emphatically.

Jane sighs with relief. She turns to the woman. “Thank you, Miss Red.”

“Always a pleasure.”

Jane thinks of something. “Would you have him do chores?”

John immediately protests. “No!”

“I’ll have our cook train him,” Miss Red says with a small smirk. Maybe John will benefit from this after all.

She walks out the door into high noon. She shades her eyes with her hand and heads to her boat.

* * *

 

Your name is John and you hate dishes.

You look up at the guy handing you an apron and stare at his funny glasses. One lens is red and the other is blue. His hair is funny.

“Come on, they’re not that bad wunth you get youth to it,” he says, scrubbing a plate clean and dropping it into the sink in front of you. “Here, when I give it to you, rinth it off. Got it?”

You nod, taking it. “Where’s the water?”

“Here,” he says calmly, tugging on a hose. Your eyes bug out thinking of the possibilities you have with this glorious weapon of mass destruction in your hands. “Thkweethe here and the water comth out.” He shows you for a second and you understand how it works instantly.

Will you try it immediately? No. The key to a good prank is to develop trust, then betray it!

The plan: As soon as the guy with the funny glasses and hair turns away, trusting you with the hose, you spray him.

Ten dishes pass and the guy still stands there. You’re getting impatient.

Ten more dishes. It’s not like you’re counting or anything.

They finish the pile. Does this guy ever move?

You lean forward, trying to see the name tag. It reads a weird name. “Sollux?” you sound out.

“Yeah.”

“I think you have a spider on your shoulder.”

As he checks, you take the opportunity to spray him. But something weird happens. You see the water bend away from him, like there’s a shield around him. You try again, but all you see is red and blue sparks blocking the water’s path.

Sollux turns to you slowly, his eyes literally glowing red and blue. He smirks. “Nithe try, kid.”

* * *

 

Jane approaches the mainland after an hour and hails a taxi to go directly to the factory. As soon as she gets there, she sees that the gates are chained shut. Great. Mother must have moved already. How will she get answers now? She’s never been this desperate, but she actually needs her mother to answer for something. She tells the driver to take her back to the docks.

“I knew I remembered you,” the driver says suddenly. She looks up. She frowns slightly, but remembers him as soon as she sees his eyes.

“It’s you!” Finally, a familiar face! It’s the driver that took her and Jake to the hotel that night, and Roxy and Dirk’s friend. She wonders about Dirk ,too. “What happened, do you know?”

“All I know is what’s been released in the newspaper,” he answers. “I’ll buy you a copy if you want.”

“That would be… splendid!” A smile forms on her face. Finally, she’ll be reuniting with her family!

What she got was the opposite of what she wanted. The headlines alone would make anyone sick to their stomach. The nice taxi driver takes her to a local pharmacy and she browses the newspaper aisle.

“BETTY CROCKER CEO HOSPITALIZED”. “CEO: COMA; SON: DEAD”. And those were only two. She eyes another and sees “BC CEO SEARCHES FOR GRANDDAUGHTER IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT”. Jane grits her teeth, holding back tears. She buys the last one, hiding her face, and rushes back to the taxi.

As soon as she is behind the closed door of the taxi, she starts to sob uncontrollably.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's title was brought to you by: Sia.


	36. It Won't Be A Long Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alpha troll alert! Mainly explains what happened to them. I think this should have been posted before the previous intermission act, but I wasn't done with it yet :p

“Now what?”

“I’m hungry!”

“Fuck this shit, I really have to pee!”

“Meenah, my feet hurt! And so do Kurloz’s.”

Meenah is so sick of hearing them complain. They had just ditched Vriska at the docks this morning, and they’re all tired. Meenah especially because they’ve been gettin’ on her motherglubbin’ nerves all fuckin’ day.

“Can y’all just shut the fuck up so I can think for a minute?!” she yells. She tries to storm off, but the rest follow, eager but obeying her command.

They come across a few benches near a public play area, all of which look totally gross, and one of them being occupied by a dirty-looking guy in polka-dot pants and a blanket draped over the upper half of his body.

“Okay, everyone is gonna sit until I figure out where we goin’, okay?”

They all agree and nod, and sit down, all but Mituna who really has to pee. She let him find a bathroom.

“Hey sis, calm yourself so a motherfucker can sleep,” the guy said from behind her. She turns. Nuh-uh. He did not just tell her to shut up. Then he sat up and revealed horns and clown makeup.

“Gamzee?!” Meenah shrieks. “Oh, motherglub.”

* * *

 

Mituna really has to pee. He went off to find a bathroom, but he really should have taken Tula because then at least he wouldn’t be lost right now. He passes by a video game store and goes in. The clerk points him to the bathroom. He runs to it, trying not to knock anything down.

He comes back out and then something catches his eye. The store has an earth version of Fiduspawn here.

He must tell Tula.

* * *

 

“Meenah!” Latula calls out suddenly. Meenah turns to glare, but Latula reelly wouldn’t interrupt an important conversation unless it was reelly important, right? She’s trying to make Gamzee take them in until they find jobs here! Trying to be responsibubble!

“What!” she replies, trying not to alienate her moirail.

“Tuna tells me they have a human version of Fiduspawn here.”

_Oh my cod_ , she thinks. “Where?!” She stops herself. “No, wait, don’t tell me yet.” She turns back to Gamzee. “Can we crash at your place?”

He shrugs. “Okay.”

“Great!” She dashes to Latula. “Tell me.” She’s not going to say she’s a complete nerd, because let’s face it, no troll ever grows out of Fiduspawn.

* * *

 

Kurloz could only watch as things happened around him. He’s not really the speaking type unless Meulin talks to him. She’s the only one that ever did out of her own free will. Not to say that he has red feelings for whoever spoke to him, he developed them much later. Mituna was a different case altogether. Mituna usually ran away, but Latula petitioned Kurloz’s assistance because nobody else would when Mituna started freaking out. Kurloz describes himself as patient in every aspect of the word. Even from the very first time he saw Mituna, he felt very pale for him. It took some time, but he began to trust Kurloz. In any case, he walked with the others as usual, following the crowd until something interesting happened.

Meenah herself follows no one in particular. Today, she follows Mituna and Latula to a store that has a human Fiduspawn. He had played every game before he started working for Vriska. Every game so far, anyway. Who knows how many have come out now. Not that he cares. He really doesn’t care about anything that doesn’t interest him. Trolls are easy to understand. Humans, however, seem complicated and interesting, and now he has all the time in the world to find out how much.

It didn’t take long before they found out it wasn’t called “Fiduspawn”. It is called Pokémon, the clerk explains. Mituna is disappointed, of course, but it is to be expected. What is also expected: Mituna wants it anyway.

Unexpected: Gamzee’s arrival.

Gamzee saunters in, hears the argument, and joins in. He says that he’d take care of it.

The yellow-haired human calls him a freak show.

Gamzee takes out a wad of bills from his pocket. Even Kurloz widens his eyes at that.

Meenah points out that he is “loaded” very loudly.

Gamzee ignores it and puts a few of the bills on the counter, asking if this covers it.

The human says sure and hands him a copy of the game advertised.

Gamzee leans over the counter and asks if the motherfucker knows how he’s going to play the motherfucking game if he didn’t have a motherfucking console.

The human demands more bills, which Gamzee provides, and asks what color.

Everyone demands their choice immediately. Mituna chooses pink. Latula chooses red. Meenah chooses black. Rufioh chooses black. Meenah changes her choice to red. Meulin chooses green. Cronus chooses white. Porrim chooses green. Horuss chooses black. Kankri chooses red. Meenah changes her choice to pink. Aranea chooses blue. If anyone would have asked Kurloz, he would have chosen pink as well, just to support Mituna.

Meenah asks Kurloz, because she says she doesn’t want to have a red console, which probably means she wants to spite both Rufioh and Kankri. Kurloz says pink. She tells the human to get the pink one.

The human gives them their product and rolls his eyes. He says to come again soon, but he really means never come again.

Now they have a pink console to play “Pokémon”. If they’re willing to share without killing each other first.

* * *

 

Aranea spends most of her time watching the news. She is extremely interested in the part where the blonde woman with the tough New York accent yells at the people who are obviously wrong. The area of expertise, however, is more Latula’s line of work. Aranea wants to do what the woman on TV does. Investigate the tough cases, and report them. It’s almost like being a gumshoe, but without following the law. She eloquently tells it how it is, no remorse, no regrets, and no survivors. She gets her opinions out and makes sure everyone agrees with her. Aranea wants to take this woman’s place.

Latula is combing Mituna’s hair with her fingers as Aranea watches the television with high levels of intent. The three of them share a room with Meenah on the first floor of Gamzee’s old hotel, which went out of business years ago, but still standing and in better condition than the mansion. The others share rooms on the second and third floors. Today, Cronus and his room has a turn with Pokémon, so Meenah is waiting outside their door, waiting for them to give it up because her room has a turn next. Aranea gives up her turn on a regular basis because it usually coincides with her favorite reporter’s screen time.

“Don’t you ever get tired of Nancy Grace?” Latula asks. “She’s so obnoxious, like…”

“Mean,” Mituna finishes.

“Totallly.”

Aranea just smiles. “I want to be her.”

“Ugh, really?” Latula asks. “Why?”

“I want to replace her.”

“Well, that’s better, I guess…” She stops and sits next to Aranea. “Isn’t this the law channel? Do you want to be a lawyer or something?”

“I want to be Nancy Grace,” Aranea says again. She feels that every time she states it, it’ll come to pass.

“Isn’t she a lawyer?”

“She reports the law, I believe.”

“Then you could be a reporter.”

Aranea scans Latula’s mind. Latula had mild interest in the law when she was younger, something about her ancestor being a legislacerator or something. Aranea sees that interest coming back, and some hints of betrayed feelings. She almost feels bad for stealing that dream from Latula.

So she doesn’t.

“Fine, I’ll be a reporter.” She turns back to the TV. “But I won’t be nice. Katie Couric is nice. Diane Sawyer is nice. I want to be Nancy Grace.”

Latula sighs. “How will you start?”

“I don’t know, but I will figure it out.”

* * *

 

Vriska was pissed off from the moment she saw Gamzee lie to her face about the whereabouts of the children. He’s known since the day they disappeared and she was angry. So one night, she decides to follow him. She finds that he has been living in his rundown hotel instead of actually being homeless as she originally thought. _Good for him_ , she thinks. Why he still has his horns is a mystery. His whole being is a complete mystery. He is one iron she does not want in the fire any longer than necessary.

She sees lights on in the windows. She can only assume that they have all been living here, with or without Damara. Damara might not even be around. Who knows where she goes? Again, not an iron she wants in the fire.

She decides to keep the rest of the irons in her fire. At least she knows they’re in Gamzee’s protection. She goes home, not telling Kanaya a word.

* * *

 

Meenah is tired of waiting for a job to come her way. And on a scale of one to ten, she would rate the job-hunting experience with Aranea at an absolute zero. She literally goes to every shop and asks for a job. One shop in particular made her uncomfortable, and Meenah is pretty sure it’s in the shit part of town. She had to leave her double trident at the mansion, and she reelly regrets the decision.

Around lunch time, Meenah takes things into her own fins.

“Aranea, instead of staying in the part of town where I can get my ass handed to me, how about we go uptown?”

“Okay,” she replies, slurping a fast food drink.

“Wait—that’s it?” That was easy.

“Where’s uptown?”

She has no idea. “I have no idea.”

“I think it’s uphill.”

Meenah nods. “Makes sense.” She finishes her fish sandwich, which was disgusting from the first bite, and throws their shit away.

“Let’s try that hill,” Aranea suggests, pointing to a huge factory on a mountainside.

“I don’t sea why the shell not.” It looks respectabubble enough.

Aranea laughs at the double pun.

“You readin’ my mind?” Meenah asks, making sure a hint of annoyance got in there.

“Always,” Aranea replies smugly.

Scratch that, negative one on that scale.

* * *

Condesce: Free Feferi.

Unable to comply, you cannot be the Condesce because this character has not yet been unlocked.

* * *

 

_It was worth a try_ , Aranea thinks.

She can control trolls that are weaker than her, but only observe humans. She really doesn’t want to go much further than that. If she could, she would manipulate them, but she doesn’t feel they have as much to offer.

She’ll make a gr8 reporter.

* * *

 

Meenah and Aranea, barely huffing and puffing by the time they get to the top of the hill, finally arrive by sundown. From the looks of it, the factory looks like literally any place of work on Alternia: drabby blocks with a dash of color.

Some people walk past the gates, most looking drowsy, and others looking like they could use a few sad animal commercials. Meenah eyes one guy with a pair of pointed shades and attempts a high five. The guy returns it, his expression unchanged. She tries it with another human, but receives a strange look instead. She ignores him and turns her attention back to Aranea.

“After you,” Aranea says. “Royals first.”

“Thank you,” Meenah replies. At least _someone_ knows how to treat royalty around here.

They walk into the doors marked “Administration”, even though they don’t know what it means. Sure they can read the human language, but they don’t know the de-fin-itions.

“I have a good feeling about this place,” Aranea says, looking expectantly at Meenah.

“What?”

“Feeling.”

Meenah glances to the side. “Uh… okay?”

“F _eel_ -ing,” she anunciates.

Meenah slaps her forehead. It was a fish pun. “Do me a favor and stop.”

* * *

 

Aranea just pouts and walks up to the desk. Meenah just doesn’t understand lowbrow humor when she sees it. A human with large rumble spheres sits at a computer about half the size of Sollux’s. In her opinion, Sollux would be disappointed that a receptionist has a computer more sophisticated than he. She sweetly folds her hands on the long, tall desk.

“Excuse me,” she starts, eyeing the name displayed, “Miss Hickory.”

The human looks up and smiles at them, still typing. “Good evening! What can I do for you kids?”

“We would like to know if you are hiring.”

Miss Hickory stops typing and frowns slightly. “You want to work here?” She turns around at the huge red spoon logo behind her, then back at them. “ _Here?_ ”

Aranea and Meenah exchange glances. “Yes,” Aranea answers with less confidence.

“Do you have résumés with you?”

“Yeah,” Meenah cuts in, “It’s called we’re poor and we need money.” In actuality, they could probably live off of whatever Gamzee is doing for money for a long time. Gamzee and Vriska work together to support the island, and Gamzee receives a larger cut. Aranea didn’t want to pry in Vriska’s mind longer than she had to, and that memory was too deep. If she goes too far, then Vriska would have caught on.

Miss Hickory mirrors Aranea, folding her hands sweetly and leaning toward them. “How old are you?”

Meenah nudges Aranea. Aranea gets the hint. She scans the human’s mind to seek the answer to her question. The only thing preventing them from working here is their age. In human years, they would have to be fourteen, but with limited hours. Very different from Alternia, but it would have to work for now.

“Fourteen,” she answers proudly. “Fifteen next month.” According to her calculations, it’s not far from the truth, either.

“Me, too,” Meenah says.

“Where are your parents?”

Aranea scans Miss Hickory’s mind again for possibilities. It really is incredible how imaginative humans are. “We’re homeschooled. We actually have our whole neighborhood taught by one person! Miss Maryam said that we have to find a part time job on our own. And if you wouldn’t mind, could you teach us how to fill out an application as well?”

Miss Hickory nods. “Well, that’s out of my pay grade at the moment…” She looks at her watch. The clock on the adjacent wall reads 6:12. “I’m off work in about half an hour. Do you have time to wait for me?”

“Hell yeah!” Meenah  exclaims. Miss Hickory gives her a disappointed look.

“We’re not expected back until at least nine,” Aranea says.

“Splendid!” Miss Hickory returns to her work. “You may sit until I finish.”

Aranea and Meenah obey her and sit in the red chairs lining every wall. They sigh with relief.

Step one: done.

While Miss Hickory teaches them about the application process, Aranea asks for more applications so the others could apply as well. Miss Hickory agrees, albeit with trace amounts of resentment. Aranea sees various memories of events that Miss Hickory deemed unfair, but nothing worse than what trolls go through every day.

“Return the others as soon as possible, and we will call you if we want to interview,” Miss Hickory says cheerfully.

“Thanks!” both girls reply, waving and almost jumping out of their skin with excitement.

“That was easy!” Meenah laughs. “How did you come up with all of that?”

“I used her own imagination against her,” Aranea responds with a hint of poise.

“Someone’s full of themselves,” Meenah says with a snort.

“Oh, hush, Meenah. You were at a loss for words for the first time in your life.”

“That’s because I’m not a liar.”

Aranea simply giggles.

* * *

 

“Fuck no!” Mituna yells. “Tula, tell them we can’t!”

Meenah and Aranea had called them all to meet them in the lobby. Kankri sees this whole endeavor futile. For instance, when Meenah demanded they all meet, he was taking his afternoon nap on his bed. By the way she entered, it would have been triggering to someone who had symptoms of post-traumatic stress. Fortunately, he had no such thing, but if someone was in the room that did, she would have triggered them. Before he could begin his rant—er, scolding—she dragged him out but his elbow.

Right now, Mituna is trying to get Latula to agree with him. He’s yelling something about having bad feelings about whatever place the two highbloods had found. Kankri is waiting for his chance to speak, but first, he needs to determine which side needs to be corrected.

“I say that we should all work there,” Aranea says to the entire group. “It would be extremely convenient if we could all work for our own money, first of all. We cannot rely on Gamzee forever.” Kankri agrees. “Second, it would be convenient for all of us to report to the same place so that we could travel together—”

“Bad idea, bad idea!” Mituna interrupts.

“Shut up, Tuna!” Meenah shouts.

“Only Tula can call me Tuna!” he yells back.

“Kurloz, please,” Aranea says calmly. Kurloz goes to Mituna, wraps his arms around him, and shooshes him. Only something seriously traumatizing would make Mituna act this way. Mituna was sometimes had a point about these things.

“If I may briefly cut in,” Kankri interjects.

“You have thirty seconds,” Meenah scoffs.

“If I may say, and I warn you that what I am about to say is about certain post traumas and I don’t want to make anyone feel offended, Mituna may not want to personally work at the establishment that you have discovered. Whatever the reason his mind thinks may or may not have happened, I personally think that he might have a point. Regardless, it is entirely your free will, so you may reject his emotional response to the situation if you want. I just want to say that you run the risk of making him hate you in a platonic manner or worse, and the possibility of destroying your relationship with him forever.” He pauses for effect.

“Shut up, Kankri!” Mituna yells.

“Exactly thirty seconds, I’m impressed,” Aranea mutters. Kankri tried not to be offended.

The next thing Kankri knows, he has the application completed and is handing it back to Aranea. She smiles at him. He narrows his eyes, unsure if her expression is a smug disposition or just a confident manner. Whatever the case, he glances around him to see that every single one of his friends had filled out their applications, including Mituna.

“Thank you everyone!” Aranea announces. “I will return these in the morning. For now, let’s get to sleep! Tomorrow is another day.”

Kankri decides never to cross this particular highblood again.

* * *

 

A week later, they get a call on the payphone outside the hotel, and it’s Miss Hockory saying that they all have interviews in two days. Meenah and Aranea had taken over this particular shift. They had been taking turns waiting for this call. It comes not a day too soon, because for humans, it is what they call Christmas Eve, and it is certainly is a Christmas present. They squeal at each other and run inside.

* * *

 

Latula doesn’t like this one bit. It seems that only Aranea and Meenah have good feelings about this place. She decides to confront Aranea about this the morning of the interviews.

“Aranea, what’s the big deal about this place anyway?” she asks as casually as possible. She tries not to give too much away in her body language, since she’s the only troll whose mind cannot be penetrated by Aranea.

“Well, Latula, I just know that it’s going to be a good fit for us!” Aranea replies with a grin.

“You planning something again?”

Aranea smirks. “Jealous?”

“Pfft! Of course not!” Latula tries to stay jovial.

“I just have plans, that’s all.” She winks.

Latula narrows her eyes, but still maintains the playful manner. “Plans?”

“Yes! So many plans! If I tell you, then where will the element of surprise be?”

“Does Meenah know?” That came out rougher than Latula had anticipated.

Aranea isn’t surprised by the comment. Latula drops the act and grabs Aranea by her collar and pins her against the wall of the room they shared. “If you hurt my moirail, I’ll hurt you. I appreciate what you did for us, but if this goes too far, you’ll be sorry.”

Aranea just chuckles. “I anticipated this. Don’t worry.” Latula puts her down and lets go. Aranea’s smug disposition melts away. Latula frowns, stunned by the change. “I have no such intentions. I would never dream of hurting someone I have red feelings for.”

Latula feels protective of Meenah again, but doesn’t let it affect her. “And what about those who you don’t have red feelings for?”

Aranea simply shrugs. “I do my best for everyone.”

Latula wants to ask what the “best for everyone” meant, but holds her tongue for the sake of their friendship. She cracks her neck. “That’s really rad of you, spider troll.”

* * *

 

Meenah goes last in the interview. She was scheduled two hours after everyone else for some reason. She watches all of the day workers leaving for home out of the glass doors to the administration building. It is separate from the rest of the factory, and Meenah wonders where she’s going to be placed. She really wants to work near water, or if not, a place where she can be with at least one or two of her friends all day. Except Cronus. And Kankri. She hates those guys. She’d rather work next Horuss and his overworked sweat glands than those guys. Heck, she’d tolerate Mituna and Rufioh if it came down to it.

“Miss Hickory,” a smooth and sweet voice says, interrupting Meenah’s thoughts. She looks up to see a very tall woman with a very thick braid going down her back talking to Miss Hickory. She is dressed in a fine fuchsia suit with white stockings and matching fuchsia heels. “Where is the interviewee?” Miss Hickory’s eyes are wide with shock, like she’s scared or something. The tall woman doesn’t seem that scary to Meenah.

“Here!” Meenah blurts out, standing up. The woman turns and Meenah tries not to feel small in her presence. She’s wearing jeans and a black t-shirt and sneakers with her usual two braids starting from the top of her head, covering her horns that are already growing back. Compared to the woman, Meenah is a fish out of water.

The woman approaches, looking Meenah up and down as she walks. No, _struts_. She is a badass bitch the longer Meenah stares. She also notices the woman is wearing white leather gloves.

“Meenah Peixes,” Meenah says, sticking out her hand. Humans do this as an introduction. Or so Kanaya said.

The woman takes it, shaking it. “Follow me, Miss Peixes.” She puts one hand on her hip. “I am the CEO of Betty Crocker Corporation. You may call me Mrs. Crocker.” The more the woman talks, the more suspicious Meenah gets about her. She is way taller than she’s ever seen any human to be, maybe seven feet. Meenah’s good feelings start to slip away the further they journey into the offices of the administration building. They finally stop next to a small conference room and they go inside. Everything in there is beige, from the carpets to the chairs to the walls.

“So let start off by saying this factory here was my idea,” Meenah says as eloquently as possible. It’s sickening how nice and fake she sounds. “I usually take charge at home and in class.”

“That’s good to hear,” Mrs. Crocker says, unaffected. She shuts the door behind her and motions Meenah to sit. “Sit. We’ll be here for a few minutes.” Meenah obeys. “So, tell me about yourself.”

“Well, I’m almost fifteen, and I am a natural leader.” Aranea said that confidence is the key. That, and proper grammar. Meenah was almost offended at the time. “I like working, but really I’m in it to make money.”

“Interesting.” Mrs. Crocker crosses her legs. “What have you done that would make me hire you?”

“I just told you. I want to work to make money.” Was that wrong.

“You remind me of my youth. Ambition will get you far in life. You just need a chance.” Mrs. Crocker smoothly uncrosses her legs and stands up. “Unfortunately, I do not think you have the experience I require.”

“What?!” Meenah stands up, failing to stare the woman down. “You just said—!”

“Don’t shout at me.” She bends down to Meenah’s height. “I hope you don’t act this way in front of your mother.”

“What’s a m—” Meenah cuts herself off. She doesn’t want to say that she doesn’t know what a “mother” is for fear of looking stupid in front of Mrs. Crocker, despite the fact that she had just rejected Meenah right in front of her. She’s too angry to argue, if that’s even a thing.

Mrs. Crocker smiles a wide and arrogant smile. “I knew it.”

“What?” Meenah says through clenched teeth.

“Oh, nothing. You just remind me of myself when I was younger.” She pauses, softening her expression slightly. “Maybe if you drop your arrogance, you can apply again.”

“Maybe I will!” As fuckin’ if.

“I will lead you back to the lobby,” Mrs. Crocker says, going back to full height. “Give you time to cool off.” This condescending bitch.

“Beach,” Meenah mutters just barely enough for herself to hear. Mrs. Crocker glances back for a split second, then opens the door for Meenah, who storms past her all the way to the lobby.

* * *

 

Aranea waits outside the hotel for Meenah to return. She insisted on going by herself, because she’s the leader and she should reserve the right to be by herself whenever she wants. Aranea sighs.

When she does see Meenah coming down the street, it isn’t what she expects. Meenah is distraught. Aranea reads the atmosphere and figures out that she didn’t get the job. Everyone else in the hotel did. In fact, Aranea started planning a party as soon as the others finished their interviews, because they had all been hired on the spot. Of course, Meenah knew that, so she knew what she was coming home to. Aranea didn’t have the heart to cancel it, but she feels sorry for Meenah.

“Get the fuck out of my way,” Meenah demands.

“Let’s go for a walk,” Aranea says.

“I walked all the way here, I don’t need another one.”

“You did what? At least take a bus like everyone else!”

“I didn’t _feel_ like it!”

“Meenah, I don’t think this is a time for puns.”

“Fuck you, there’s always time for puns!” She shoves Aranea away. “I need my moirail if you don’t mind.”

Aranea’s blood pusher contracts painfully. Perhaps it is best to give Meenah some space. She goes inside and slams the door. Aranea goes inside as well, watches Meenah trudge to the room they share, and slam that door as well. She turns to the party in the lobby, where everyone, including Gamzee, is eating pop tarts and ice cream. Everyone looks painfully aware of Meenah’s rejection.

“She needs you,” Aranea tells Latula.

“I know,” Latula answers, picking up an entire box of pop tarts and heading to their room.

As Aranea went around the room, she found out where everyone was working. She and Latula are going to be working in the administration offices. Meulin, Kurloz, and Mituna are going to be working in packaging. Cronus, Rufioh, and Kankri are going to be working as taste testers. Horuss is going to be working as a custodian. Porrim is going to be working in the design department.

Aranea feels sorry for Meenah. More so, she feels pity. She wants to do her best to help, but what Meenah needs right now isn’t Aranea. She didn’t have to spy on their minds to realize that. She’s just going to have to get over it.

* * *

 

Meenah decides that it’s her turn to split away from the group. That was her plan anyway. Her fallback. She’ll just live in the ocean. She ain’t goin’ back to the island. Fuck that. It’s either be condescended to on the island by a bunch of overgrown children, or on land by a shitty boss. She already told Latula. She won’t tell anybody. Maybe she’ll look for Feferi while she’s at it. It drove Eridan crazy to Meenah’s understanding, but maybe Feferi was avoiding Eridan on porpoise. Meenah has a better chance at finding Damara than finding Feferi.

That tall beach totally killed Meenah’s mojo. But she’ll show her. Somehow.

Meenah sneaks out of the hotel after Gamzee leaves. She must avoid him if she wants to avoid Vriska, too. She manages to get to the public park by the waterfront without being noticed by either, and looks around to see if anyone was watching. It doesn’t look it, but she’s safe for now. She climbs to the top of the metal fence and is about to jump when someone grabs her from behind.

“Konbanwa, Meenah-senpai,” someone whispers into her ear seductively. She shudders and scrambles away, pretty fucking sure that she was alone before.

“What the everglubbin’ fuck, Damara?!”

“Gomenasai,” Damara says with a pout.

“Speak Troll, if you don’t mind?”

“Before you go, come with me.”

“Why?”

“I want to show you something.”

Meenah puts her hand up. “I’ll pass.”

“Onegai,” Damara whines.

“Drop the lolita act or I’ll stab it out of you,” Meenah threatens, getting to her feet.

“It’s not an act.” Damara gestures Meenah to follow with one finger. “Come.”

“I want to show you something. Before you go.”

Meenah rolls her eyes. “Fine. Then will you let me jump in the ocean forever?”

“If it’s your choice.” Damara just shrugs and walks away.

Meenah follows, not sure when this night was going to end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter title was brought to you by: Naughty Boy.


	37. They Said You Was High Classed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S BEEN TOO LONG.

The first night, Jaya had a nightmare. She was screaming about something chasing her, but then by the time Karkat woke her up, she couldn’t remember and had a nasty headache. A few minutes later, she was asleep again. Vriska had walked in then, asking if she could help the young human sleep better. Karkat said hell no and she walked off, probably with a smug expression. Karkat didn’t want to leave, either, just in case.

For the next week or so, Jaya stayed in her room, Kanaya coming in to check on her in the mornings. One day, she sees Karkat collapsed over the mattress, snoring like a large mammal, Jaya still sleeping somehow. She wakes him up quietly, and brings him to the other room.

“What do you think?” Kanaya asks.

“I think I’m glad Meenah isn’t here to tease the pink kid,” Karkat says. “What’ll this do to our resources?”

“It does not make that much of a difference. With eleven less mouths to feed, it is actually no trouble at all.” Kanaya sighs.

“Still hung up over Porrim?” Not that Karkat can blame her. Like her ancestor, Porrim was the only other troll Karkat could stand. He appreciated her because she took care of Kankri when he was being, well… Kankri.

“Yes,” she answers simply. And that was that.

* * *

 

Your name is Jaya, you think. You made up your name when you came to live on the island. It’s been a few weeks and you think you’re going to like it here. There is so much space to run around! Maybe she’ll even catch a squirrel! Today, though, you’re going to learn about everyone. Whatever that means.

* * *

 

“We have to tell her we’re not human,” Sollux suggested yesterday. Karkat is not looking forward to that. What if she’s afraid of them? She’ll die from starvation if she won’t let anyone near her. Worse, she’ll jump off one of the many cliffs that this island has and then they’ll be _responsible_ because they’re the ones that brought her here.

“Karkat, you are sweating like it is the middle of the summer solstice,” Kanaya said to him quietly.

“I volunteer Eridan to give her the shock factor,” Sollux went on.

“What the fuck, Sol?” Eridan yelled, offended. “Is that why you suggested this fish-brained idea?”

“Maybe.” Sollux obviously couldn’t contain himself.

“Let’s put a damper on the black advances, both of you,” Karkat growled. A surge of jealousy pulsed in him every time Sollux pulled this shit with Eridan. Karkat shot a glare at Kanaya, who stepped in to pap Sollux out of his infidelity. Karkat is convinced Sollux does that on purpose just to piss him off. “I fucking hate you,” Karkat grumbled. Sollux shrugs it off.

“I think we have to tell her eventually,” Kanaya cut in, “and the sooner, the better.”

So today, it’s going to happen.

They set up an elaborate display. Anatomy, an Alternian map, a graphic organizer of the castes, et cetera, et cetera. Everyone sits in chairs in the living block, shooting the shit even though they just spoke a few minutes ago. Even Nepeta is here. Karkat slouches in his chair with his arms crossed, as far away as possible from Sollux and Eridan. Kanaya then enters with the small human, both holding hands. They take the available seats and Kanaya starts her spiel.

“Welcome again to Alternia Mansion. As you may have noticed, everyone here is special.” No shit? “If we could, let’s all introduce ourselves. My name is Kanaya Maryam.”

Karkat is next. “Karkat Vantas.”

“Nepeta Leijon!”

“Eridan _Am_ pora.”

“Vriska Serket…”

“Sollux Captor,” he pronounces especially slow. “And thith little wriggler in my arm ith Aradia Megido. She’th my… daughter.” Only Karkat knew it, but that pause was legitimate confusion because he couldn’t remember the human word for “descendant”. For god’s sake, why did he Sollux bring her anyway? This is an adult meeting. Besides, do they even have to distinguish male and female? Just describe them the way they are: a descendant. No political correctness to be found.

“Are you guys aliens?” Jaya asks right off the bat.

* * *

 

Vriska can’t contain it anymore. This child entertains her to no end. At the very least, she now she has a human toy to practice with on the regular. She starts laughing. “And you wanted _me_ to break it to her!” In reality, she literally drew the short straw. Her luck had to be low lately, because she _really_ didn’t want to. However, she doesn’t mind being the antagonist once in a while. It can have its fun moments. She gets up and walks over to Eridan, then grabs a horn, forcing his head side to side.

“Wris!” Eridan yells. “Why can’t you do that to Sollux?! He has horns!”

“You’re more fun.” Sollux would have blasted her anyway. She looks into Jaya’s eyes. Vriska can feel the child’s curiosity and terror growing simultaneously. “See, kid, these things are horns. They’re kind of useless here on your planet so we sand them down.” She then crosses the circle of chairs to Karkat and snatches his wrist. She pushes the long sleeve to his elbow. “We’re gray colored, too. That’s not just a complexion. Well, for the rest of us, it isn’t.” She tosses his arm back to him.

“Fuck off, Vriska!” Karkat snaps.

“We also have different color blood.” She goes to Eridan again, unsheathes her dagger, and gives his cheek a small slice. “This one is royalty because he has purple blood.” He’ll be fine. The slice heals in a day or so, and it’s already clotting. “Kanaya here…” Kanaya raises her lipstick as if to put it on, then gives Vriska an icy glare. “Will probably tell you later.” She didn’t want to suffer the wrath of the chainsaw today. She meets Jaya’s eyes again and sees that she is perfectly scarred for life. Good. She moves on to Sollux, looking him dead in the eye and twirling her weapon.

“Sollux’s heterochromia alone will convince you. Aradia and Karkat are not that much different concerning the hue of blood. And as for myself…” She then sheathes the dagger and bends down in front of the small child. She takes off her glasses and shows off the sevenfold. “I can read your mind,” she whispers, then smirks. The various yelling at her to leave is music to her ears. She needs to go to work anyway.

One thing that bothers her about the Jaya kid, is that something is blocking out her sevenfold vision. Either the human brain is much more complex than previously thought, or there is trauma that even Vriska cannot penetrate. One of these days, she will get to the bottom of the mystery of Jaya. The self-proclaimed all-powerful hacker Sollux couldn’t find anything about her anyway. Unless he’s lying. Vriska will have to get right on that.

* * *

 

After that debacle was over, Sollux retired to his room, letting Aradia play outside with the other grubs and the new girl. The way Vriska was looking at him earlier freaked him out. He needs to delete his entire computer before she finds out—

He cut his thought process off. Does Vriska even know how to operate a computer? Probably not. If so, then he could just delete his browser history. Not much she can do after that. He knows how to get the information back, so unless she teaches herself with all that free time she has, he’s in the clear. That, and if she ever gets her powers back to the troll frequency…

He rushes to turn on his computer and deletes his browser history.

* * *

 

Aradia didn’t feel like going outside today. She felt like exploring what was behind the door in the kitchen. Kanaya said that the mother grub was down there, and she likes her privacy sometimes. Aradia thinks that the mother grub should come out sometimes and play.

“Whatcha doin’?” Aradia sees the big girl, Jaya standing behind her.

“I’m gonna splore,” Aradia answers.

“Wanna play hunt and seek?”

“Yeah!” That sounds like a much better plan anyway.

Jaya looks around and stops at the door in the kitchen that leads to the basement. “Okay, here are the rules: don’t let Karkat find us. ”

“Okay!”

Jaya unlatches it and waves them both in. She closes the door behind them, giggling, “I told him to count to a thousand.”

It’s Aradia’s turn to giggle. A thousand is perhaps the biggest number you can count to. They take turns hushing each other, for fear that they might be found. They scamper to the bottom of the stairs.

Then they hear the buzzing.

* * *

 

Your name is Jaya. Still? You feel like you should get a last name. Anyway…

You hear buzzing in the darkness of the basement. You stop Aradia and fumble around for a light switch. When you turn it on, you see what looks like a giant caterpillar moth thing buzzing about, trying not to bump into things. It’s bigger than you, maybe as big as a car. It’s pure white with jade highlights on its skin and wings, and it has funny looking horns. Not Eridan funny, but more curved, and one of them has a notch on it.

It stops flying, landing on the ground with a thunk. It turns toward you and Aradia. You take Aradia’s hand, not sure what it’ll do. Its big, dark eyes meet yours, but you don’t feel scared. Not Vriska scared, anyway. It’s almost calming.

“Mother grub,” Aradia says, pointing.

“Mother grub?”

“Yeah!”

There’s something in you that says, “Free Her.” You’ll ask Kanaya after hunt and seek.

You and Aradia go up and pet the mother grub, who purrs in response. You find that the spot between her horns is a good place to scratch and ruffle the fine fur covering the beast.

“Are you a boy or a girl?” you ask it, not really expecting an answer in English. The mother grub purrs again.

Just then, you hear stomping upstairs. Someone must be in the kitchen. You take Aradia and quickly run past the mother grub and into a pile of clear plastic storage boxes. They are packed to the brim with flat things in it. They kind of look like vinyl records.

A few minutes of absolutely nothing happens. No doors being opened, no Karkat yelling, not even Kanaya checking on the mother grub. The mother grub must be very lonely down here.

“Karkat’s not good at this game,” Aradia says, coming out of her crouching position beside you. “I’m bored.”

“Yeah, me too.” You look at the boxes and take one down. You look through the lid and sure enough, they’re all vinyl. One of them has Elvis on it. You don’t know how you knew who he was, but the name rings a bell. Well, at least you can remember Elvis. You open the box and take out that album. It has Elvis and a dog on it, and it reads “Hound Dog!” You like dogs, so you close the box and keep that one out.

“What’s that?” Aradia asks, pointing to the sleeve.

“It’s a record. You can listen to it.” You hold it out to her.

Aradia takes it and puts it up to her ear. “I can’t hear it.”

What are you missing? You know you’re missing something. “Hmm.” You start looking at the other boxes. Then you see what looks like a really thick briefcase. It’s weird that they’re with all these boxes of records, so you open it. There’s a big circle on the left and a couple knobs and a needle arm. You don’t know why, but you think this will work. “Aradia?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I see it?” She hands it to you and you take the black disc out. You make sure it’s the right side and put it face up. You flip the switch and the disc starts turning. You put the needle carefully on the disc and a song starts playing. You celebrate getting the thing to work by dancing to the music. Aradia starts dancing, too. You pretend you’re playing drums every time they get a solo. You sing along because it’s the same lyrics over and over. Even the mother grub is joining in on the fun.

You think you’re going to really like this place.

* * *

 

The sun is setting and Karkat has no idea where Jaya went. They went to go play hunt and seek hours ago, expecting him to play, but now he’s really regretting it because they are now missing in action. He just thought they would get bored and play something else, because Karkat really hates hunt and seek. Whenever he hides, people find him and give away his position. Whenever he seeks, they jump on him and just slow him down. And he’s not talking about the new grubs, either.

Calling them grubs isn’t really fair because they grew out of their bug-like physique a few months ago. The thing they haven’t grown out of is their ear-splitting shrieking.

“Hey Kan, I forgot to tell you,” Eridan says as Karkat comes up to Kanaya’s block for help. “The basement door in the kitchen’s not locked.”

“Why did you not lock it when you saw it unhinged?” she asks.

“Cos I heard music comin’ from down there, and I’m pretty shore that the mother grub doesn’t have phalanges to operate that sorta equipment.”

Karkat narrows his eyes. They’re down there, aren’t they?

“Oh dear, someone must have gotten down there without permission,” Kanaya mutters. She gets up and Eridan leaves. She spots Karkat at the other end of the hallway and says, “Oh good, there you are.”

“Fuck.” The last thing he wanted was to be around any more children today. But since they are in trouble, that means he gets to yell at them. It made him feel only two percent better. Yelling de-stresses him, but at the same time, it’s the only way they’ll listen. And for once, he’d like to not yell at someone dumber than he is.

They quickly make their way to the basement door, and sure enough, it’s unlocked and the music blares as soon as they open it. The song ends, and he can hear Aradia shouting, “Again!” and then laughter. The song starts up again and Karkat leads the way to the basement.

“What in the everloving fuck is happening here?!” Karkat yells. He sidesteps the mother grub, who looked like she was moving to the groove earlier. He doesn’t want to be in the way if she trips. He goes right to Jaya and Aradia, who are jumping up and down and doing some kind of crazed ritual dancing. They didn’t hear him. “I said…” He waves his arms. “What the hell is going on!”

“Hi Karkat!” Jaya says, turning to the music and turning it off. “We found music!”

“I know you did!”

Kanaya cuts in then. “Why were you down here in the first place?”

“Hunt and seek!” Aradia pipes up.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, Karkat was supposed to find us,” Jaya explains. Fuck. Again.

“ _Oh?_ ” Kanaya now turns to Karkat.

He feels his face flushing with embarrassment and anger.

“Well it cannot be helped now.” She sighs and bends down to talk to both girls. “Next time, do not come down here. This is the mother grub’s sacred space, and I am the only one who tends to her.”

“She looked lonely,” Jaya says, looking at the ground. She looks back up with a smile and says, “Plus, she was dancing with us!”

It’s Kanaya’s turn to smile. Karkat doesn’t feel welcome anymore, so he turns to leave. “Don’t do it again!” he says before he storms up the stairs.

He’s off today. He’s been off for a while. And it has to do with a certain jadeblood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's title was brought to you by Elvis Presley.


	38. Chapter 31: Our Youth is Running Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyyyyyyyyy it's been a WHILE hasn't it?  
> *ahem* I was really busy I am so sorry. And tired. Busy and tired a lot..........  
> Anyway, Happy 4/13!!

 

Your name is Jaya Vantas and you want shooting lessons. You saw guns in a movie once and you really want to try it. They made the sport look so much fun!

Karkat was okay with it when you asked him. Kanaya will be a tough nut to crack.

“Can I have gun lessons?” you ask her after awkwardly standing outside of her room for a few minutes.

“Jaya, you are ten human years old, why would you need to shoot a gun?” she asks, head bent over a sewing project.

“Everyone else has cool weapon stuff,” you say, “Nepeta has claws, you have a chainsaw, Sollux has his eyes, Vriska has her sword, Aradia has her horns…” You pause. What did Karkat have? Oh, you got it! “And Karkat has his yelling.” The only one you missed was Eridan because he doesn’t do much. And Gamzee. You don’t see him very often, but you think you saw juggling pins with his name on them once in the basement.

“I knew this time would eventually,” Kanaya sighs. She sticks her needle and thread into whatever she was sewing and stand up, brushing loose pieces of thread to the floor. “Follow me,” she says. You do.

She leads you to the basement, where you’ve danced and played countless times, she took out a long metal box with two latches. You’ve always wondered what was inside, but never dared because the last time you opened up something without permission, Karkat yelled your ears off. She opens it and there, in pieces, is a gun. It’s a rifle, and it’s black, and it’s so awesome!

“I cannot find any ammunition, but it needs a cleaning. It does seem like a good way to practice caring for such a weapon. I have a feeling that if you show me that you have patience for it.”

“Yeah!” You smile widely and hug her. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“You are very welcome, Jaya. I remember starting to train with my weapon when I was four sweeps old, or in human years, almost nine.”

“I’m ten now, so when do I get ammunition?”

“I do not know exactly, but when we go to the mainland next time, we can figure it out, okay?”

“Yessss!” You make a fist.

“I will leave you to it, then,” she says with a wink and a smirk. At that, she leaves you behind.

“Okay!” You pretend to crack your knuckles. “Now what?”

* * *

 

“Vriska, I need you to put Jaya to sleep for a bit,” Kanaya says in a rushed tone.

Vriska raises her eyebrows. “Why?”

“I am having reservations about letting her learn a weapon so early in life.”

Vriska chuckles. “You learned when you were four.”

“And you learned when you were five.”

“Same difference, but if you want me to, I will.”

“Thank you.”

Vriska rolls her eyes. She closes her eyes and concentrates on Jaya’s wavelength, which isn’t hard. She’s the closest human in the vicinity, so locating it is easy. She sees through Jaya’s eyes. The gun is still sitting in the case, and Jaya is poring over a set of instructions. She lets the girl reach for the first piece of the gun before promptly putting her to sleep. Vriska imagines Jaya’s face pressing into the gun and making indents in her cheek and stifles a small laugh.

When Vriska opens her eyes again, Kanaya is gone.

Vriska lets out a satisfied sigh and heads to her ship. She feels like going for a ride.

* * *

 

Kanaya briefly checks on Jaya sleeping on top of the weapon. Perhaps making Vriska put her to sleep was not wise. Jaya sure does seem to have a passion for guns, and taking her away from it would most likely cause a rift in their relationship. Kanaya sighs and returns upstairs to her sewing.

When she finishes Jaya’s new outfit a few hours later, which comprises of a long white skirt and an emblem of a dog on a shirt, she folds them neatly and puts it next to the sewing machine for later. She makes her way downstairs to find Vriska presenting a gift box to Jaya. She eyes the spider troll warily and opens it, revealing a case that looks suspiciously like the rifle case downstairs.

“Is this a gun?” Jaya asks with unintended glee. At least, Kanaya hopes it’s unintended. “It even has ammo!” Jaya picks up the package tenderly and shakes it, the metal bullets clanking inside. She looks up at Vriska and smiles. She then notices Kanaya and points at the case excitedly.

“Look what Vriska got me!”

“I see that,” Kanaya says, feigning the same amount of glee. “I must say that it is a very hefty gift.” At that point, Vriska looks over her shoulder and smirks. Kanaya approaches Vriska and asks in a hushed tone, “May I speak with you?”

“Sure,” Vriska answers. She turns back to Jaya and says something unexpected. “If you dare load and fire that thing in the next three years without clearing it with Kanaya or Karkat, you’ll regret it.”

Jaya gulps. “Okay.”

Vriska turns back to Kanaya. “Yes, mother?”

Kanaya waits until she leads Vriska outside to answer. “Is it your intention to undermine my decisions on a daily basis?” She can’t help the bitter tone that comes out, but she can’t help it. She is too angry.

“What, my little threat back there wasn’t enough to convince you?” Vriska crosses her arms. Kanaya does the same. Vriska sighs. “No, it wasn’t. I would never do that on purpose. Although, I did get that thing for a number of reasons.”

“Please extrapolate, because I am seeing none other than purely ulterior motives.”

“Not against you! For one thing,” Vriska starts counting on her fingers, “that gun downstairs was utter shit. You ought to thank me! If she loaded that, it probably would have malfunctioned and blown her face clean off. Second, I’m doing this for myself, plain and simple. If I don’t give her anything, then she’d hate me forever. I want to establish a foundation of trust so then she’d be grateful to me in the future. And lastly, I think that Nepeta could use help hunting once in a while. If you look closely, that gun is specifically meant for hunting. For sport, you can say. If she uses it on something else, well, that’s her problem. Besides, maybe the two nature lovers can hit it off and become great friends!”

Vriska did have a point in becoming friends with Nepeta. Who knows, maybe Jaya could become an excellent markswoman in the future. She can defend herself on one venture, though.

“I claim to be no expert on firearms, but I have a feeling that the one downstairs is not in fact ‘utter shit’ and simply needs a thorough cleaning. I had a plan to ease her into it, you know.”

“Is that why you made me put her to sleep right before touching the thing?”

“You what?” a small voice asks, stopping Kanaya’s heart immediately. The women turn to see Jaya listening in, holding the case in her hand. She throws down the new gun and runs back inside to god-knows-where. Kanaya takes up chase and manages to lose her inside. She checks the basement first, then the upstairs to no avail. She most likely went outside while Kanaya wasn’t looking. She wants to kick herself but sees no way to do that, because it is physically impossible.

“If you want, I can make her come to us,” Vriska suggests when Kanaya catches her breath.

Kanaya shakes her head. “I have a feeling that she needs to do that on her own.”

“It’s not like she’s going anywhere, am I right?”

Kanaya narrows her eyes in Vriska’s direction half-heartedly. “I will retire to my block until then,” Kanaya sighs. From then on, she decides to be more careful when dealing with the feelings of humans. In some ways, they are trickier than the feelings of trolls. She has much to learn about humans than she thought. The past couple of years were nearly perfect. Kanaya struggles to fathom what might come next.

* * *

 

Fortunately, the coming years that Kanaya had predicted with Jaya are not as bad as previously thought, Vriska concludes. After five years of the human girl living on the island, she turned out not to be so bad after all. At the ripe age of thirteen, Jaya has grown almost as tall as Karkat and become a less pasty version of when she first came to live here. Not that Vriska has anything against having pale skin. She just thinks that Jaya looks better this way. Come to think of it, Vriska is now a darker shade of gray herself, but not much. It’s all that time she spends outside. She has seen that people with a darker complexion hail from parts of the planet with more sun, but that doesn’t seem to be the case with Jaya. Vriska considers that Jaya’s skin is more prone to change than other humans, and leaves it at that.

Karkat, on the other hand, is apparently having the worst time.

He confides in her one night, not even in a drunken stupor, which they cannot afford anyway, and can never happen.

“I may have just witnessed the grossest thing that humans can ever do,” he complains.

“What weird thing did she do this time?” Vriska asks.

“Before we get to that, I am pretty sure that there is some human remedy that prevents it. Deals with it? Whatever. I’ve seen copious inventions on this planet, and there’d better be a fucking solution to this particular problem.”

Vriska narrows her eyes. “You’re asking me to buy some invention just for Jaya? I already did that. It’s called a shotgun.”

He slams his hands on the table. “No, you goofy-eyed dimwit! This problem is not solved by some object used to kill or maim. I still don’t get why you bought her that infernal thing to begin with, and sure you probably didn’t know that she taunts me with it every time I go outside, but I digress. This specific issue is the root of all of my problems I have with her currently. At least, I think it is. She’s been lashing out at me, and only me, and I’m pretty sure that she’s having some personal problems.”

Just for fun, Vriska takes a look through Jaya’s eyes and sees her hugging her abdomen. Whatever Jaya is feeling inadvertently transfers over to Vriska, who winces herself.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Trying to understand,” Vriska answers with a grunt, pulling out of it. She focuses back on Karkat. “What do you think it is exactly?”

“Well, I’m not sure, but…” He swallows uncomfortably. “I think she’s injured.” He looks around and then back to Vriska. “I saw her washing her sheets by the beach once and I’m pretty sure there was human blood on it. She didn’t look visibly hurt, so I tried to approach her and she yelled at me and took off! I don’t get it!”

“Have you tried consulting the Internet?” she asks. “This doesn’t sound like something I’d know how to handle. Besides, if there truly was an invention to solve this, why did you come to me first?"

“You’ve been out in the world more than I have.”

Vriska knows the real problem now. “Is there something wrong with your blackrom with Sollux?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

Vriska wants to prod him more, but she also wants Karkat to go away, and something tells her that he won’t until he solves Jaya’s problem first. “Just tell him to research for you. He’s probably bored out of his mind trying to hack the government or something.”

“Fine!” He throws his hands in the air and stalks off. She takes one of the cell phones and goes to the mainland, where she might finally get some peace and quiet. She doesn’t want to touch that iron right now. Maybe later when they’re healed, but still sore about it. Honestly, it’s like they’re six again.

* * *

 

“Sollux, you binary fucknozzle will you please open the door?” Karkat shouts, banging on the door. He hasn’t seen Sollux in days, probably holed up in this dank space labelled “IINTERNET2.” Karkat doesn’t know nor care how to pronounce it. He finally just opens the door himself, since it has no locks, and finds the room empty. At least the computer is on and conveniently opened to the internet. Karkat closes all the browser windows except one and opens up Earth Google. Or Google. It’s plain old “Google” here.

He enters in the keywords “blood,” “girl,” and “yelling” to see what comes up. What he finds is a website for “single dads” and a page titled “periods.” He scans it and nearly chokes on his own spittle. Apparently, human girls have this thing every month, and only girls. It doesn’t seem fair to him. As soon as he starts feeling sorry for Jaya, he reads that eventually the problem becomes manageable and there’s nothing for a single dad to worry about! Well that would be great if he was a single dad. Fortunately, Jaya has an entire village. Literally. Since Kanaya is a girl, he’s probably going to pawn this job off to her.

As for the inventions, fortunately, there are a few solutions. One of them grosses him out, and the other would probably gross other people out. He chooses the latter and goes downstairs to tell Vriska about the invention. He finds her and a cell phone gone, so he grabs the other one and tells her to get it. She agrees and will be back in a few hours. He debates going to where Jaya is and reassuring her, but decides against it and tries Kanaya instead.

“You want me to do what?” she asks.

“It’s a girl thing, and you’re a girl, so why not?” he says.

“I don’t mind that, but you want me to do it now?”

“Yeah? She’s curled up in her room right now, so it would be the best time to do it, right?”

“I suppose. I will have to do some of my own research first.”

“Yeah sure, whatever. Sollux’s computer is still on that page so you can read off of that.”

They go upstairs to see that Sollux had returned, the browser window nowhere to be found.

“Sollux, where did my window go?”

“Oh, tho you deleting my windowth wathn’t a black come-on? Becauth if not, that wath ekthtremely rude and I’m not telling you shit.”

“Fuck you! Open it up again!” Karkat reaches for the mouse but is swatted away.

“No, fuck off! You’re going to break it!”

They tussle for a few seconds before knocking the keyboard off the shoddy desk entirely, making the CPU unplug itself from the monitor, and sending Sollux and Karkat straight to the floor in a heap.

Karkat feels himself being pulled up by his belt and tossed onto his backside. Kanaya strikes again with her ashen tendencies, apparently.

“Why don’t you do it?” she suggests.

He pales. “What?”

“Anything to get him out of here!” Sollux yells, getting to his knees and fixing the cords.

“You do seem to have extensive knowledge on the topic, so why not?” Kanaya says, shrugging.

Karkat scoffs. “You want me to tell her that she’s going to be bleeding from her nook once a month, every month for the rest of her fertile life? That she’s going to have genital cramping every twenty-eight days and there’s nothing she can do about it? That she’s basically a shitty werewolf?!”

“Wait, what?” Sollux, trying not to laugh.

“You, shut the fuck up,” Karkat says, pointing to Sollux. Karkat stands up and dusts himself off. “But fine. Fuck it. I’ll do it. If I don’t return I’ll be haunting every one of you assholes.” And at that, he storms away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's title is provided by: Foxes


	39. I3A1: Don't Look Down, Real Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How long has it been?  
> Too long.  
> I apologize.  
> Life and stress and stuff. Summer has hit and I am a teacher, so I have more time than usual. I also got a job at the happiest place on earth, so at least I won't be bringing homework home.  
> Anyway, without further ado, the next chapter of Jettisoned.

This wasn’t going well. Dave has been expelled after too many fights in school. Dirk has made sure to be clear that fighting in school is never the answer, and every time Dave claims either self-defense or defending a friend’s honor. Middle school is hard, and nobody understands. Dave has always had trouble in school, but he always made up for it by meekly going through with his punishment.

But now, none of that mattered, because all the administration saw was his disciplinary history, not how he performed. Sure, Dirk was angry at the time, but now that he thinks back on it, that school was shit anyway. Online courses seem to be working better for Dave. Dirk himself got an engineering-slash-robotics degree before he started working at Betty Crocker Corps. He worked at the same time, paying his way, basically living like a vagabond until graduation. If he played his cards right, he could have Dave get his GED before sixteen.

All of that parental planning went down the tubes as soon as they got the foreclosure notice in the mail. Apparently, supporting Dave as he got older grows more difficult, considering no one hired him longer than three months at a time since the factory blew up three years ago. The money they got from selling the equipment they salvaged lasted about as long as a puddle in the Sahara. Apparently, the market in Seattle had taken a turn for the worse because of the very explosion at the top of the hill, making the whole western economy collapse like a pile of dominos. The bigger they are, the harder they fall.

Betty Crocker herself dug herself into a hole when she sent out an all-call to find her precious granddaughter, Jade. He remembers letting out a scoff when he first saw the interview on Good Morning America just a month after the incident. Everyone knows that only the crazies go for that shit. She literally set herself up to be submerged in imposters and quacks. He wouldn’t be surprised if she gave up by now. It has been two years, after all. She’s better off without that shady alien.

Dirk reached out to some friends from work, one in particular found a dwelling on a nearby island. He invited the Striders to at least check it out. They went and Dave seemed to love it. He had done a small shrug and short approval grunt when asked about the island. He’s not very expressive, Dirk noted years ago. Right before Dave started middle school, actually. At the time, Dirk wondered if that girl actually left some kind of impression on Dave. Jade going missing seemed to correlate to his emotional changes. It was either that or puberty.

In any case, they had all of their stuff packed into boxes now, ready to leave the apartment for the last time. The last time he left this place, he willingly moved in with Roxy. This time, he’s being forced out.

* * *

Jane Crocker—no, Jane Egbert had finally gotten her private investigator license. Two years of hard work and avoiding the Batterwitch made taking online courses unnecessarily callous, but it was worth it. All those trips to the library to use the computers on Saturdays was worth it. Dropping off John at the library’s activity center was worth it, despite the constant pranks he pulled on the volunteers. She tried to tell him years ago that getting caught must be avoided, but he doesn’t like to listen. Jane has a hope that someday he will understand the true meaning of pranking.

As of then, John went to public school under the name of their new identity: John Egbert, third grader. One thing he definitely understood was the need to use their new name and forsake their old one. He had made friends quickly, due to his friendly personality and his wide, blue eyes that match her own, although he might have taken some darker shades from his father. The other parents in her neighborhood have supported her as a single mom since they moved to a large island off the coast of Seattle two years ago. They all took turns babysitting during the week: if one of them worked at night, they had a system to take each other’s children for however long was needed.

Despite the housing market tanking, someone still managed to purchase the land behind their neighborhood, which used to be a useless expanse of garbage and dirt, and built apartment complexes, mainly multiplex style homes arranged in neat rows. One by one, they filled up with a variety of people, including families, college grads, and even a few elderly couples. Very few were single people. Jane did her best to welcome them, baking cakes and cookies to deliver straight to their front doors. Every single person accepted the sweets gladly. Jane found fulfillment in making someone’s stomach happy. She continued doing this until every single apartment in the new buildings were filled. One morning, she saw a taxi drive away from the last dwelling to be sold and started baking right away. She didn’t see who had moved in, but she is going to find out in a few hours. She drops off John at school and starts planning immediately.

Baked goods in a metal pan (muffins today!), she walks up to the door, knocks, and waits. No answer. She leans up against the door and hears video game music. That explains it. She rings the doorbell with her elbow. She hears the music stop and the whining start. She knows a boy’s cry of disgust anywhere. Then footsteps. The door unlocks and she nearly drops the foil-covered cooking apparatus when she sees his face.

“Holy crap,” she breathes. Dirk Strider stands in the doorway.

* * *

One person he did not expect to see on his front step was Jane Crocker. Suddenly, the world around him seems to have clicked the “mute” button. He quirks an eyebrow and smirks. “Well, if it isn’t Jane Cr—”

“Egbert!” she says loudly, correcting him. “It’s Egbert now. But Mr. Strider, wow! It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

Not sure whether to be mildly concerned or not, he answers honestly. “Way too long.” He pauses to take a deep breath in the still-awkward silence. “How’ve you been since that day?”

She turns her gaze down to the plate in her hands, then jerks her head back up as if she had forgotten why she was there in the first place. “Good!” She thrusts the pan into his arms, not waiting to make sure he actually had a grip on the thing, which he had because he’s Dirk-motherfucking-Strider, and power walks away. She suddenly stops then power walks back to him. She looks him dead in the eye and says, “We live in the blue house over there, number 13. Come over some time! John would be happy to see Dave again.” And at that, she turns away, continuing her trek across the too-new grassy sod towards the only blue house on the block.

“Dave, dinnertime!” Dirk calls out behind him. He shuts the door with his foot and unveils the pan, revealing chocolate muffins. Hardly dinner, but it’s better than the Doritos in the fridge.

“Bro, did you steal these?” Dave asks. “I know you can’t cook worth shit.”

“Would you mind watching your fucking language young man?” God, Dirk sounds like his father.

“Whatever.” Dave grabs a muffin and immediately turns back to his hand-me-down video game system. They sold their last one for extra cash, and Dave will probably hate Dirk forever for it. The only thing he couldn’t pry out of Dave’s cold, dead hands were the memory cards. Dirk had said before that there might be a chance to never play video games for a long time, but Dave was stubborn and kept them. The stubbornness paid off, for now they have the new system and some crappy skating games with heavy endorsements throughout. It’s not what Dave would have liked, but Dirk believes that this time will pass and that the future will be better.

* * *

Your name is Dave Strider, and you’ve just about had it with these dumb video games. You want to go outside and spar with you bro-slash-dad like you did in the city. Sure, you’ve told him that you liked it here, but that was mainly because Bro seemed to. And sure, there was this little feeling that everything was about to change, but you chalk it up to the experience of moving in general. You kind of hate being anywhere but where you came from.

No wait, scratch that, you hated your school. Middle school sucks. You still have next year, and you’ll be in eighth grade, but until then, starting a new school in April seems kind of very stupid. You still have to go for the last two months, and everyone else has been in this train wreck of an educational system for almost two years already, so what’s the point?

The first thing you unpacked was your Xbox. Well, not yours, but someone else’s that was given to you out of pity or some other horseshit. It came with two controllers, which was nice if you didn’t count on your bro forcing himself in. It made you incredibly angry that he was not only better than you at sparring, but at video games, too. Your only choice was to pretend the batteries didn’t work.

Another thing your bro likes to do: Unplug things before you get a chance to save. Also, he calls muffins “dinner.” Who does that? Muffins are fucking _dessert_ , not regular food. As soon as you take one of the muffins that the weird lady brought, you try to take a bite, but only air fills your mouth.

You squint your eyes. _Bro_. This means war. You flash step to your room to grab your Buster Sword hanging on the wall. Just before you can get it, it’s suddenly replaced with Lil Cal. You scream bloody murder and he disappears. Bro is always fucking doing that shit! It scares the bajeezus out of you. You recover quicker than last time, which is only a full second, and snatch another shitty sword, which happens to be a katana, and hold it horizontal to the right just above your head, defending yourself just in time.

“Video games making you rusty, little man?” Bro smirks, which is rare. Not a lot of things amuse him.

“Fuck off,” you mutter, putting up your pointed glasses that match his with your middle finger. Your legs go out from under you and you’re looking up your sword and up his nostrils. Bro had swiped his foot from behind your ankles in a sneak attack.

“Flick me off again, and you won’t get that computer for your summer gift.” Bro flips his sword up and rests it over his shoulder. “But if you manage to nick me and you also get a desk.”

It is so on.

* * *

Your name is John Egbert and your mom just told you to go ask for the tray of muffins back. It’s been a week and they should have finished them by now, she told you. It’s Saturday, so she has to volunteer at the library, but she trusts you with doing this one thing before heading to the library yourself. There’s nothing else to do, really besides indulge in the nonfiction section because the kid books are boring as heck.

But before that, you get to the Strider apartment. Mom told you that there are two guys there, one her age and one a little older than you. You think the kid is named Dave. You knock on the door tentatively. The door opens and there stands a middle schooler about five inches. Mom said that he was older, but you didn’t think he’d be that much older! Bigger kids like him kind of freak you out. The pointed sunglasses don’t help. He looks like an anime nerd, but he’s still intimidating.

“You’re that Egbert kid right?” Dave says, breaking your train of thought.

“John, yeah,” you answer nervously.

Dave sighs. “What are you, ten? You look ten.”

“I just turned eleven,” you lie. Your birthday is actually in a week.

“You going to let him stand out there or what?” a deeper voice calls from outside. That must be Dave’s bro. He and mom go way back, you think. She says you saw him on your eighth birthday back at the big house. You can’t remember what he looks like if you did.

“We have your mom’s pan,” Dave deadpans. He then leaves the door open. You go inside.

* * *

Your name is Dave Strider and you were not given what you were promised. You were promised a friend and what you got was a scaredy brat. You’ve decided that you hate guests because he came in and just as suddenly, Bro offers _your_ video games to him. You have to give props to the kid because he declined. Good. Sharing is for little kids. You’re not a little kid. Bro treats you like one and it’s a real pain in the ass.

In any case, John Egbert-slash-Crocker didn’t seem to remember you. You don’t remember him very well, except for the time he yelled “PRESENTS” and made a huge mess. Damn, you hate kids. But then again, that girl Jade was a kid back then. Bro told you about her and she seemed like the less bratty of the pair. You barely spoke back then, but you remember liking talking to her, even though she was a little kid. You wonder if she’s also here. But judging from Bro’s avoidance about the subject, she probably isn’t. It’s times like these where you want someone who’s actually your exact same age to talk to.

But there is no one. All you have is John. Fuck your life.

* * *

Jane sent John off to his first day of middle school with Dave on the bus, which took them to the local K-8 school. Dave looked… burdened. She was uncomfortable with that, but Dirk assured her that John was fine. The school wasn’t that bad from what she heard. The high school they were zoned for, unfortunately, was off-island and Jane heard some downright terrible things from there. But who knows? It might change for the better in three years.

“Having a heart attack yet?” Dirk asks. “Middle school is rough for some kids, believe me.” Dirk looks off into the distance where the bus had been long gone. Jane does the same until she remembers to look at her watch and realizes that the time is now almost nine, and she was late for work at the library. But she wants to stay for a few more minutes. Just in case.

“For the last week!” Jane confides in him. “The last thing I want for him is to get hurt, and sixth grade is the worst.”

“Weren’t you homeschooled?”

“Oh, hush.” She doesn’t like remembering her childhood, so she plays it off as awkward. “But you’re right, my schooling was at home and it was just dandy!” She remembers bruises healing faster than they should have and the bereavement from early morning baking and acting lessons.

“The floodgates in your eyes tell different.”

Is she crying? She just thought her glasses were dirty. She takes them off and the blur is still there, so she wipes it away, leaving a trail of saltwater on the back of her hand, letting out an involuntary sniffle. The infomercial rehearsals threaten to break down her carefully constructed barriers.

“Was it something I said?”

Jane purses her lips tight and bites hard on the inside of her mouth to stop the tears. She remembers her college hopes dashed because her terrible excuse for a mother said she’d never amount to anything more than a silly homemaker.

“You want to skip work today?”

She shakes her head. She checks her watch again. Eight thirty. She still has time to walk to the library if she goes now. Then there was Jake. Sweet, nerdy Jake. He needlessly died for the hopeless cause of whatever caused that explosion. About that, she is one hundred percent positive. It was the last straw against this camel’s back.

She barely registers her shoulders being lightly grasped and pulled close to the nearest warm body in a hug. She lets herself be embraced and takes deep breaths. What she smells is a sense of comfort laced with sweat from the humid morning.

“Thank you, Dirk,” she mumbles into his polo shirt. He pulls away and she realizes she stained his shirt with tears and a hint of snot. The sight makes her laugh again, soft to her own ears.

“Be right back.” And in a flash, he was gone. Jane blinks a few times, wondering if she imagined the whole thing. A few seconds later, he reappears with a wad of tissue paper. “We don’t have any tissues, but we have this.”

She smiles and takes the sad wad and wipes her eyes and nose. She doesn’t wear makeup, so she didn’t have to worry about messing up her face. “Thank you, again.”

“No problem, and anytime.  That goes for any time of day or week. I keep a spare key outside somewhere, so if you can find it, you can keep it. ” She has no doubt she won’t, since she is a private investigator now. “We have video games and chips to spare.”

“Okay,” she says. “I’ll keep that in mind, Mr. Strider.”

“I hope you do, Mrs. Egbert.”

“Miss.”

“Miss Egbert.”

“You bet your biscuits.”

Successfully cheered up, Dirk disappears again and leaves Jane to sprint to work.

A few hours later, she gets home with plenty of time to spare before John gets home. She takes out her PDA, which is massively outdated and probably useless by now, and charges it just for fun. It was one of the only pieces of technology she wasn’t able to part with when funds were low. With Dirk’s reunion lately, she’s itching to make contact with Roxy again. It’s been a few years since she’s even heard from the blonde in the Big Apple, and Jane is going to rectify that now.

It takes a full hour to charge the thing, so she starts planning dinner. She’s thinking mac ‘n’ cheese with tuna tonight.

She opens Pesterchum right away.

It’s a flood of pink. Mostly misspelled. Jane’s stomach drops the farther she reads.

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] started pestering gutsyGumshoe [GG] 17,500 hours ago

TG: jaAAANE  
TG: MOTHE RFU CKI NG G TOWE RS WWERE ALL RHER DOINNNNG

First: The first messages were sent a ludicrous amount of hours ago. Jane had to do the math and it turned out to be just short of two years ago.

Second: Was she talking about 9/11?

TG: SHE PLASNED IT ALL  
TG: )(EAD BITC)( IN FUKIN C)(ARGE  
TG: S H E K N O W S I M H E R E  
TG: not evn gona bothr fixing anyathat  
TG: cuz its trur  
TG: im comVINCDE

Jane felt bad for skipping over what seemed like a dissertation of ranting and “proof,” but these allegations were completely out in left field. Roxy was off her rocker! Jane had to wonder how Rose was holding up.

TG: kinda outa vodka  
TG: and cats  
TG: rose needs another cat  
TG: getin these cats ehwn they die  
TG: a moms gotta do whata moms got ta do  
TG: brb

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] ceased pestering gutsyGumshoe [GG] 16,000 hours ago

The next message was sent much, much later. About a year ago. There was no reference of her previous discussion anywhere.

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] began pestering gutsyGumshoe [GG] 8,000 hours ago

TG: im glad u didnt get to respond to any o that  
TG: u havnt logged on in like  
TG: 20 years!  
TG: ok more like 2 but  
TG: ur probs busy raising john n shit  
TG: heard what happened in seattle  
TG: losing jade like that has gotta suck so i wont even entertain that train of thought  
TG: sorry abt jake :’(  
TG: he was a niceguy  
TG: not like rude  
TG: he was good 4 u  
TG: he cared

tipsyGnostalgic is an idle chum!

tipsyGnostalgic is online!

TG: dirk cared 2  
TG: also big niceguy award  
TG: i was just the bitch who took his daughter  
TG: fear will do that ya know  
TG: make u do stupid shit  
TG: paranoia gets 2 u and the next thing ya know youre getting the fuck outta dodge  
TG: im a paranoid fuckwit  
TG: havent even told rose she has a brother  
TG: donthinkieverwilltbh  
TG: hopefully lil dave knows he has a sis  
TG: rose is so smart  
TG: if u c dirk again tell him that 4 me  
TG: also that im sorry  
TG: bein in the same state as that sea bitch is a nightmare come true  
TG: its like she knows im here  
TG: did u kno she killed that other guy right in fronta me  
TG: the guy she married  
TG: not sure if you remember ur father  
TG: big bald man? hulk-size  
TG: took a few stabs to the head  
TG: it was traumatizing  
TG: fucked me up something fierce  
TG: look at me im chatty roxy today  
TG: if shes still here when rose goes to college im gtfo of ny  
TG: rose is just SO impressionable  
TG: im scared that shell hate me if i dont come clean  
TG: she thought she was a squirrel once when she was 6  
TG: u can tell dirk that too i think hell enjoy it  
TG: hes been off-grid  
TG: N E WAY  
TG: still have PC installed whenever u get online  
TG: i will wait  
TG: right hurr

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] ceased pestering gutsyGumshoe [GG] 7,990 hours ago!

Jane’s eyes filled with happy tears when she saw that Roxy was online even now.

gutsyGumshoe [GG] started pestering tipsyGnostalgic [TG] at 15:14

GG: I’ll tell him.  
GG: And you might even get to tell him yourself, too!

And she waited.

* * *

Your name is Rose Lalonde and your mother’s state-of-the-art computer has a lot of programs that she needs to uninstall because holy crap. You’ve been trying to do your homework and Pesterchum keeps interrupting your focus. You’re not surprised she has one. You have one, but you mainly do it to roleplay characters from the Squiddles show. You know that show is for little kids, but you think that they still teach important lessons that are still relevant for middle school and above. For adults too, really. In re-watching the show, you have come to understand all the dark undertones that each squiddle represented. You just wish your friends could understand.

After about five minutes of messages coming through, you open the flashing chat window.

GG: John is fine.  
GG: In fact, he just started middle school!  
GG: He’s growing up so fast.  
GG: I also have obtained my private investigator license, hoo hoo!  
GG: How is Rose?  
GG: She must be in eighth grade now, right?  
GG: Or maybe she skipped straight to high school, considering you praise her so highly.

You feel a chill being talked about like this. Is this what adults do all day? Talk about their kids without their consent?

TG: Who is this?

The handle is gutsyGumshoe, but mother never talks about having any friends, online or otherwise.

GG: Roxy, you never use proper punctuation.  
GG: Is something wrong?  
TG: Who are you?  
GG: You aren’t Roxy, are you?  
TG: I will not disclose any of my personal information until you tell me who you are.  
GG: Oh!  
GG: This must be Rose!  
GG: I am an old friend of your mother’s.  
GG: An old work colleague, really.  
GG: How has she been lately?  
TG: You still haven’t told me your name.  
GG: Where is your mother?  
TG: She’s at work.  
GG: It must be after 6 over there. She works late, doesn’t she?  
TG: What is your name?  
GG: Jane.  
TG: Well, Jane, I will be sure to let her know that you messaged her.  
GG: Thank you, Rose.  
GG: You have no idea what this means to me!  
GG: Ever since she moved, we’ve been worried.  
GG: I’ve wanted to get in touch, but it’s been hectic.  
GG: Would you tell her that for me?  
TG: I don’t see why not.  
TG: It was nice to meet you.  
GG: And to you too, Rose!

gutsyGumshoe [GG] ceased pestering tipsyGnostalgic [TG] at 3:30 PM

You think you’d better leave this program installed. You get worried that your mom doesn’t have any friends.

You can now do your homework in peace. By the time you finish, it’s well after nine and you are very tired. Mom didn’t come to the computer room when she got home, which is normal because you usually tell her to leave you alone. You know she’s here, though. She never makes a sound when she gets home.

You decide to check her room and find her sprawled over the bed, snoring like a lumberjack, heels kicked off and onto the ground under her feet. Going over to the bed, you also note that she is still in full makeup. You gently pat her hair and whisper good night wishes.

You also decide to sleep for once. Maybe the horrorterrors won’t bother you tonight. Since your twelfth birthday, they’ve been plaguing your dreams and disrupting your sleep patterns. They whisper of capabilities that you could have had once upon a time. They whisper half-truths that you are close to believing. They reach for your limbs and try to pull you into their darkness. They make it sound so enticing. You are not you in your dreams. You’re someone who knows better. You don’t give in. But some days you wonder why you shouldn’t. What can be so bad about knowledge of the past and future?

When you wake up after those dreams, your sheets are damp with sweat and you curl up on the sofa in front of the elaborate fireplace mother has never bothered to learn how to use. They cease after that. Maybe they only come once a night. Maybe the wizard statues on the mantle protect you from them. Maybe dreams are all bullshit.

God forbid you tell your therapist that.

* * *

Roxy wakes up to loud pounding on the door. In actuality it’s probably normal knocking, but to her, it sounds like a sledgehammer.

“Mom, wake up!” Rose calls. “I usually do not have a problem with the way you spend your evenings, but I am going to be late for school!” She looks at the digital clock next to her bed. Six sharp. Rose let her sleep in this morning. It takes an hour just to drive out of the wilderness alone. At the expense of being late to that awful high school. At the very least, they should stop making children wake up before the ass crack of dawn to go to school at seven in the morning. Roxy tried to find a school with more acceptable hours that will provide the best education for her daughter, but they were all two hours or more away and Rose insisted public education would be good for her. Then again, Rose only spent one year in middle school before deciding that she should be homeschooled. She’ll be thirteen this year, so Roxy is worried that she’s going to be made fun of for being so young. She shakes off the worry because Rose, being an avid reader, will probably rip them a new one. Something Roxy wishes she should have done when she was in high school. But we won’t talk about that.

Roxy groans as she uses her arms to lift herself off the bed and slide off. She didn’t even use the covers. Good thing it’s still September, or she’d be freezing her ass off.

“I made you a hot pocket,” Rose says through the door. Roxy hears the soft padding of her daughter’s feet scurrying away from the door. Rose is so thoughtful. Roxy doesn’t even bother picking a new outfit. No one at work notices a forty-three-year-old woman’s clothes haven’t changed in three days. Not with the lab coat being the standard uniform.

She quickly inspects her purse to make sure everything is in it before rushing out of the room, scrambling to put on the only pair of slip-on flip-flops she owns. When she gets downstairs, Rose is all ready to go, backpack and everything. Her short hair is adorned with her signature black bandana, and she’s dressed in all white down to her socks and sneakers. Roxy smiles.

“What?”

“I’m so proud of you.”

“Ugh,” Rose says, rolling her eyes. “Let’s just go, okay?”

“Okay, young lady.”

The drive for most of the trip is unusually quiet. NPR is their favorite station, and it always gets them talking. Their favorite host is an elderly-sounding man named Don “Doc” Scranton. He is so absurd, and they often mock his outdated opinions of changing society.

This morning, Rose isn’t participating in the fun. It looks like something’s bothering her. Roxy takes a breath. It’s mom time.

“What’s up, Rose? You’re usually the best at mocking the Doc.”

She didn’t speak for a few minutes. Roxy turns off the radio. “I was doing my homework last night on your computer, when someone started messaging your Pesterchum.”

Roxy’s heart flutters. She’d been trying to send Jane messages for years. God, that stuff about Mrs. Crocker must have sounded like a bunch of hooey. Roxy forgot that she even sent those messages. Or maybe it was Dirk? She hasn’t spoken to him in years, either. Is he finally going to let her have it? Sure he was merciful last time, but what if all the anger was just boiling up all this time?

“She said her name was Jane. She just wanted to get in touch.”

“Janey!” Roxy exclaims. Oh no. What if she read the chat logs? Breaking news: Mom Lalonde is a conspiracy theorist! Or worse: Rose finds out that her mother is a terrible person for taking her away from her father and brother. She can’t have that. “You didn’t read the older chat logs, did you?”

Rose quirks an eyebrow. “Should I have?”

Whew! “Oh, it’s nothing to concern yourself with. Adult things. _Boring_ things. You know, taxes and shit.”

“Oh,” Rose says, kind of dejected sounding. “I was kind of curious about how you were back in your younger days.”

“Really? Then ask me. Ask me anything. I’m an open book.”

“Who is Jane?”

“Jane is a good friend of mine. I met her at work. She’s a real sweetheart and has this knack for cookies like you wouldn’t _believe_.”

“Does this Jane have a last name?”

“Uh…” Roxy couldn’t tell her Jane’s real last name. She’s too high profile. Well, maybe not as much as the late eighties. Fuck it. “Crocker.”

“Any relation to Betty Crocker?”

“What if I told you she was the heir to Betty Crocker Corporation?”

“Then I’d know you’re lying to me.”

Roxy sighs. “You’re right. You caught me. No relation whatsoever.” Roxy nearly had a heart attack.

“Can I meet her?”

“I don’t know. She lives all the way in California.” Roxy has never lied to Rose’s face like this. She suddenly finds herself eager to point out how close they are to the school. Rose has never asked anything like this before, and she never believed in Santa Claus or any other mythical figure for that matter, so lying wasn’t essential. They have always been real to each other. What if she asks about her heritage?

“Ah, that would explain it.” Roxy can see Rose looking out her window. A moment later, about a block away from campus, Rose says, “You can drop me off here.” Classic teenager move. Roxy complies and pulls over in front of a home.

“I’ll pick you up after rehearsal, okay?” Rose applied to three different clubs plus orchestra class, and she actively participates in all of them. Thankfully, they all get out around the same time, so Roxy doesn’t have to worry about her being alone while waiting for Roxy to get out of work. Rose gets out of the four-door sedan. “I love you!”

Rose closes the door and turns back to Roxy, a small smile on her lip. She waves goodbye, smile still on, and speed-walks to the school, backpack bouncing lightly on her back.

Roxy leans back in the driver’s seat, not realizing she had leaned forward in the first place, and puts both hands over her nose and mouth. “What have I done?”

* * *

Your name is Rose Lalonde and you’ve known your mother’s Pesterchum login for a while now. You even have the app on your BlackBerry, glitchy as it is. You log out of your account and into hers as soon as lunch starts.

You click Jane’s username, and open up the option to look at past logs. Strange, you can’t find the one last night. In fact, there aren’t any at all.

You consider this development as simple glitch and log off. Perhaps they will still be on the computer’s files at home. Windows XP has a knack for keeping files, no matter how temporary, on the hard drive, even if you delete them from the app. You just hope mother doesn’t know that.

For the rest of the day, you wonder why your mother lied this morning. She is usually honest, but you have read that when people lie, they avert their gaze. You don’t think mother has ever lied maliciously, but maybe this is like when she hides birthday gifts. Maybe it was just an innocent lie.

But maybe it isn’t. She said she was an open book, but the first thing that came out of her mouth was a lie. Maybe Crocker isn’t her real last name at all. Maybe Jane was lying about her name and mother just made up something to keep you from asking anymore.

You really want to ask why she lied, but maybe she’ll lie about that, too.

Seventh period ends, and the final bell rings. You head directly for orchestra rehearsal. You’re basically a prodigy, so you leave your violin at school all the time. You’re probably going to quit next year, though. You’re kind of sick of getting a lot of attention because you’re the best at what you do. The other kids are awful and don’t take you seriously. Your other clubs aren’t that different, but at least the musicians say it to your face.

Once outside the doors, you come to a decision.

You rush to the library and do research. They close two hours after school ends, which gives you plenty of time to do what you need to do.

You open up Google and look up “Jane Crocker Betty Crocker.” Some sites that you instantly recognize as porn come up, and you avoid those because of reasons. Although, the title “ JANE CROCKER SECRET CAMERA TEST VIDEO LEAKED” is intriguing. Since you’re at school, you can’t click on any of those. You do click on the Wikipedia page for “Betty Crocker Corporation” and see what they have to say. They reference the incident in Seattle three years ago, which is probably irrelevant, given that mother said that Jane lived in California. The site also listed a woman with the pseudonym “Betty Crocker” as the CEO since the early seventies, and said that their real name was hidden from the public for safety reasons. As far as you are concerned, there is no reason to hide such a name, since they can obviously afford protection because of their conglomerate status. You sigh because you remember that this site can be edited by anyone, and go back the Google results.

An hour passes by quicker than you realize, and the next thing you know, your mom is calling your phone. “Hi, give me a moment, rehearsal just got out.”

“Then why do I see students with their cases in the front of the school?”

Busted. “I was talking to the teacher about something.”

“I see.” She sounds like she bought it. You sigh with relief. This lying business is catching, you think.

You close the window and go to the front, where only three kids were left waiting to get picked up from orchestra rehearsal. You find your mom’s car immediately and get in. You notice that your mom had changed clothes. You feel the blood drain from  your face. Did she go back home after she dropped you off? She must have, because you don’t think she would keep clothes at work. If she did go home, then that would explain the chat logs being erased. You are really hoping she didn’t erase the temporary files.

“Your session is at noon tomorrow, so make sure you have your stuff ready when you finish your homework.”

“Okay.”

The drive home is as quiet as the trip this morning. “I take it you didn’t go to rehearsal today?”

You shrug.

“I get it. People are terrible, right? Should I talk to the teacher, what’s-his-face? Spencer?”

“That is the worst idea.”

“Also got it. Leave it to mom to ruin your high school reputation, right?”

“Yep.”

“I also hated high school. So any time you want to rant, I’m all ears, okay?”

“Mom, you’ll know if I need to get certain issues out. Besides, that’s what my therapist is for, right?”

“True, very true.” Mom taps the steering wheel along with the classical music. “But I’m just saying.”

You can’t help but smile. You may be a teenager, but talking to the only one that willingly listens to what you have to say is also a good idea. It’s not good to keep people you love at arm’s length. “Okay.”

Finally, mom pulls into that driveway and lets you out. She doesn’t drive away until you are safely inside. She goes back to work after she drops you off, which must take up a lot of gas. You can’t wait to have friends willing to pick you up, or at least learn how to drive. Maybe you should ask for a bike for your birthday so you can take the bus.

As soon as you lock the door, you hurry to the computer and boot it up.

“Come on, come on,” you mutter.

You sign in and search for the temporary folder. It’s empty. All the files are gone. Even the cookies for the Internet. You nearly flip the keyboard.

Mother is officially a liar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's title is brought to you by Martin Garrix and Usher, and Clean Bandit.


	40. To Laugh, To Cry, To Live Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for being patient ^^  
> I've cut some more bs and answered some questions

It’s been a while since Meenah has seen Damara, and to be honest, fuck her. Ever since Meenah took this dead-end job at the fish market, she’s been bored out of her thinkpan. But Damara said to do it. Damara said that in this world you have to work to get cash. Damara this, Damara that, Damara doesn’t show her fucking face. What a feeling it would be to inflict physical violence upon her. These are not black feelings. This is platonic hatred to the max.

“Why you keep doing that?” Damara says behind her. Think of the devil and she shall arrive.

“What?” Meenah mutters in response, arranging the cod in the ice before the day starts. The rush of people usually comes in when the market officially opens. Which is promptly at five in the morning. Not like Meenah really cares what time of the day it starts. The more fish she sells, the more money she gets. She caught them herself, and sells them for top sand dollars, no ifs, ands, or boats about it. And fuck the customers who whine aboat it. They don’t know quality when they sea it. The only downside is the money they carry with them.

“I know when you think about black feelings,” Damara says, closer now. Meenah doesn’t turn around. How did she even get in here? The entrances are roped off to customers until the market opens. But then again, there isn’t much security in this dam place.

Meenah finishes arranging her booth and turns to the intruding troll. “What bullsharkshit are you dishing out today? Cuz I’m busy.”

Damara laughs her fake Japanese schoolgirl laugh. “No shits. Just observation.”

Meenah ignores the bullshit and turns back to prepare her money bag. It’s about that time when her stall neighbor Brady arrives and gives her a weird look.

“Meenah, I’ve always known you were weird, but talking to yourself is new.” His comment is snide, but it makes something click in her mind. She looks to Damara, who smiles like she’s known everything in the universe and shrugs, and fades out of existence in front of her very eyes.

For the first time in her life, Meenah is dumbstruck. This sudden turn of events makes everything make sense. It makes her remember when she saw Damara die. It was back when they were making their way to this miserable planet (that is thankfully covered with water or else Meenah would have been about a hundred times more spiteful towards the adults who brought them here). If not for Vriska’s mind control, the younger trolls would have gone stir crazy with anticipation and killed each other out of frustracean on the ship. It was when they landed. And when they made the island and the mansionhive their home, it was like no one even noticed she was gone. Damara was there. Or was it Vriska’s fault? No, she lost her powers over trolls when they crashed. Meenah saw Damara drown. She always sucked so bad at swimming. But that time, it wasn’t because she couldn’t swim. Meenah saw Damara’s unconscious body in that cage, knocked out by the impact, and did nothing. Meenah swam to her own safety. She coulda done somethin’! It’s her fault, and she’s too pissed off about it to even think about giving her customers the time of day.

All this time, all these years, everyone thought she was still alive.

“I’m not a doctor, but I think you’re hallucinating,” Brady says loudly, so the other fish sellers could hear him. A few did and have now turned their attention on the pair. “Maybe it’s the fish smell getting to you.” She’s gettin’ real glubbin’ tired of his shit. She has half a thinkpan to go over to his stand and flip the entire table on him. She’s strong enough to do it, too. All the swimming and hauling fish ashore plus unnatural fuchsia strength adds up.

What grinds her gills the most is that nobody noticed! Literally everyone back then either saw her or spoke with her. What was their deal? How was everyone able to collectively see her, years after she died? Meenah knows for a fact that Damara is dead, and she has never felt more lucid. Somebody musta been pulling the strings.

But who?

She knows who.

“Cod damn it!” she yells at the top of her lungs.

* * *

At eighteen human years of age, Aranea has accomplished much. Ever since the Big Split, or when the factory went belly-up, all the boys automatically transferred to New York with the company, including Porrim, Latula, and Meulin. Aranea was the only one who stayed. Porrim had gone on to be the CEO’s personal assistant at the human age of fifteen, most likely due to her expertise in Alternian and Earth fashion. Of course, Porrim realized too late that the CEO was exactly who the adult trolls back on the island didn’t want to run into, on Alternia or otherwise. Latula saw that the boys had followed her to New York blindly, and felt intense protective feelings for her matesprit. Poor Mituna, Aranea thought. Meulin desperately wanted Kurloz to snap out of it, but Kankri was the one to ultimately convince her that there was no danger and pulled her into the fray. Aranea still considers this move to be weak on the olive-blood’s part. Simple thinkpan defense mechanisms would have helped Meulin see through the delusion that Kankri so obviously lived in. Perhaps he still lives in it. Under her imperious, anyone could be susceptible.

Aranea noticed that the false human known as “Betty Crocker” could not influence humans with her mere presence as well as she could with trolls. When in public, she wears a heavy human disguise, at a much higher quality than the younger trolls, even Kanaya. The act of building such a dampening façade among humans creates a sort of accumulation of chemical pheromones that only trolls can detect, and can therefore make a living, breathing slave. Or in this case, the empress versus eleven barely-hatched grubs, at least ten new slaves. Subtract Aranea herself, that is. Perhaps Meenah too, because as soon as she found out she wasn’t hired at the factory, she snapped out of her awe. Or more likely, she was never seduced to begin with, being of the same blood color. There are many variables to consider. Additionally, the influence eventually runs out, hence Porrim’s realization and Meulin’s brief bout of clarity.

Aranea did well for herself. She kept tabs on Meenah, too. While Aranea was taking advantage of the nearest rich man, Meenah was earning her living. When Aranea put the weak ones to sleep to secure her own chastity, Meenah was dragging a large net ashore. As Aranea graduated from unwitting high school students to college bachelors and bachelorettes, Meenah was haggling with ignorant customers.

Aranea admires those parts of Meenah. She is both stubborn and a miser, and that makes her fun. There are those lonely nights when Aranea puts the humans to sleep and lets them dream their fantasies of her, when she thinks of how Meenah would covet their lives.

Aranea focuses on work as well. She was hired very quickly by a reputable news channel. By day she is a simple reporter of small-time events in the city of Seattle, and by night she earns her real living. She has a feeling that very, very soon, the tides are going to change. She can feel the fortune in the air, and it’s not because she is currently sitting in a trove of wealth.

* * *

It’s almost closing time when Meenah hears something that piques her interest for once.

“Treasure is everywhere along these coasts,” one gruff, scraggled man says to his taller companion, also scraggly.

“Before you fuck off with my boat again, I need some solid proof so I can actually help you this time,” the taller one retorts.

“Just let it go, wouldja? I only borrowed it to buy a map off a guy.” They stop two stalls down from hers.

They’re browsing the competition. Sleazy fishermen like them are always scoping the markets so they can make up better deals and steal customers. Meenah has a personal bone to pick with both of these particular men, now that she recognizes them.

“You left it with no gas!”

“Sue me then!”

“You’re such a jackass.” They continue on in silence until they cross the walkway to criticize some other stand.

“If this map pans out, you can get half.”

“I’m in.”

They finally get to her stand. She is ready for them.

“What’ll it be today?” she asks, trying to hide her forming grin.

“I’ll have your cutest, pinkest Barbie doll, little girl,” the tall one says. Sea, this is probably why he hangs out at a sausage fest instead of with any self-respecting person of the female variety.

She grips the bottom side of the heavy wooden table and flips the large metal containers on top of both men with ease. Of course, they yell like morons as soon as the ice comes into contact with their bodies. She drags the short one out from the pile and searches for the map. She finds it in the man’s jacket pocket and even though he’s struggling and reaching for it, she doesn’t falter and shoves his face into Brady’s ice. The tall one manages to escape his fincounter and rises to his feet shakily.

“Y-y-you’ll p-pay for that!” he says, stuttering from the cold.

Meenah just laughs. “I’ll be payin’ _myself_ handsomely once I find this cornukelpia,” she says, allowing her grin to fully form. By now, her teeth should be back to their normal sharpness. She got sick of filing them down, and she didn’t really need to since her life was shit and never smiled anyway. But now, she has a cause for smiling so madly. Bystanders look terrified and hang back.

The short man starts clawing at her hand. She forgot his face was in there. She releases him and makes a mad dash through the empty walkway, stuffing the laminated map into her black jeans as she runs. She doesn’t run so fast to lose them, because she needs this escape to be epic.

Just outside the fish market and docks, there is a short cement wall that separates the land from the sea. It’s a dead end, and it’s usually used as a fishing spot. The water there isn’t as filthy as the docks. She breathes underwater, so breathing murky water be like breathing ash.

She waits until the two humans corner her before climbing up and standing on top of the short wall. She glances into the water to make sure there weren’t any rocks, and if there were, then the scene she was planning in her head would go a lot different. There aren’t any. Yas.

“Hand over the map and no one gets hurt,” the tall man threatens. It’s all Meenah can do not to laugh in their faces. The short man is angry, but she can see the fear in his eyes. “Be a good girl and give back what you stole.”

Meenah smiles wide, showing off her teeth again. She figures she’ll never see them again, so she hastily wipes off her dark brown makeup and fuchsia lipstick. She finally removes her beanie, showing off her almost full-grown horns between cornrows. She discovered the badass hairstyle a while ago and spends her off-days doing it herself. Since she can’t see the back of her head, she usually stops about halfway and forms the rest in two long braids down to her hips.

The men are rightfully shocked when they see her true form. “You’re some kind of freak!” the short one exclaims.

“This freak gotcha map,” she announces, patting her pocket. “Bon voyage and suck my bulge, bubbleheads!” At that, she flips them off with both hands and falls backward into the water. The cold water feels good against her skin after being in the sun all day. She waits until she’s about a mile away before breaking the surface again. The water is deep and she couldn’t feel more at home.

As the sun sets, she takes out the map. Floating on her back, she realizes that she has totes seen the shape of one of those islands before. It looks a lot like the mansionhive’s island. She folds it back up and puts it into her pocket again. In her experience of swimming up and down the currents and streams, because of studying the patterns of certain local fish, she has travelled the distance between the mainland and the island many times over.

She needs to go to the island real quick. She gon’ get her trident back.

* * *

Your name is Jaya Maryam and for some reason, you are outside in the middle of the night. Again. The first time this happened, Karkat said night terrors were to blame. But you don’t remember night terrors or nightmares. You remember a golden planet very clearly and lucidly. About once a week since you turned twelve, you’ve been dreaming about it. But recently, every time you dream of the planet, you wake up on a different part of the island. It’s like when you move in your dreams, you move in real life.

It terrifies you. The island is small, and you could easily fall into the ocean and drown.

You told Kanaya last night and she installed a string system to tether you to the bed. You look down to see that the string is still around your ankle. You’re either stronger than you thought and need a thicker string, or it wasn’t tied very well to begin with. The only comfort you have is the fact that this only happens once a week. You return to your block, confident that you won’t walk off a rocky cliff tonight.

As soon as your head hits the pillow, you fall into the golden world again. But for some reason, you can’t wake up no matter how hard you try. You sit up in the bed you always wake up in no matter where on the planet you end up. You know that the pad in the middle of the spherical room transports you downstairs, so you just avoid it this time.

You get up and go to the window. The ruined cityscape stretches on for miles, like it usually does. Everything on this planet is golden. The streets, buildings, everything but the clouds. You look at the clouds and sometimes they show you things. Some of the things have happened, but they’re generic enough that they are bound to happen to anyone and everyone. You have never encountered any inhabitants or wildlife here, so you’re pretty sure you’re here by yourself. With all the trolls around in real life, the quiet is soothing. But sometimes you get lonely, and just want to talk to someone.

As if the universe were sentient and able to read your mind, the pad activates and whirrs on its own. You turn quickly and see a curvy, pale figure standing on it. Her skin is so light, it’s almost pure white. Her platinum hair is very short and her irises are black. She stands tall and proud in your presence, and you can’t help but feel slightly intimidated, even though the woman was dressed in nothing more than gray rags. She’s beautiful in her composed posture, fingers lightly interlaced at her sternum.

“I’ve been expecting you,” the woman says, “we all have.”

You wake up, breathing hard and standing in the sewing room. Thankfully, you have only roamed to the next room, and you breathe a sigh of relief. You turn around to leave the room and see a dark figure’s legs run past the doorway. You lift one of the curtains out of the way slowly and look in the direction they went, and see a blurry, darkly dressed troll at Vriska’s doorway. The troll is female, you think, with long braids and medium-length horns. Something about her seems familiar, but you’re positive you’ve never seen her before. The troll opens the door and sneaks inside. Vriska is gone for the night, at “work” she says, but Karkat says it’s glorified gambling.

A moment later, the troll comes back out with a double-ended trident that seems to gleam in the darkness. The troll comes back down the hallway and you duck into the curtains. You weren’t fast enough, and the troll stops at the doorway, cackling softly.

“Breathe a worda this an’ I’ll filet ya.” You hear footsteps running off, down the hall, descending the stairs, and then a door downstairs opening and shutting.

You wait two whole minutes before moving, trying to process the whole event. You might have memory problems, but you’re absolutely positive that you’ve never seen another troll besides the ones on this island. You’re going to ask Kanaya in the morning if there are any other trolls besides them. But until then, you have to tie yourself to the bed again.

The next morning, you don’t remember your dream, which probably means that you never had one after you went back to bed after the strange troll came by. As usual, you’re the first one awake. You quietly leave the block and squint down each hallway, making sure that the figure wasn’t a curtain blowing in the wind or something easily explainable. Then you remember that Vriska’s block has no curtains covering it, only the sewing room does.

If only you could remember where you’ve seen that troll before. Maybe if your world wasn’t so blurry, you could get an accurate description of them. All the movies that you and the others have seen had at least one person with something covering their eyes. You asked Kanaya once and she told you they were corrective lenses to help people see. She suggested to go see Vriska about getting some, but you hate talking to her because she talks down to you. You don’t like being condescended to.

You hear a door open downstairs. Vriska’s home. Sure enough, her dark blue-and-black pirate outfit comes up the stairs and towards you. Rather, towards her room, you’re just in the way.

“Vriska—” you begin to say.

“I’m tired,” she interrupts. “Tell me when I’m less aggravated by nitwits who don’t know the difference between a club and a spade.”

“But—”

“Jaya. I dealt with a lot of plebeians last night. Don’t make me add you to the list.”

You decide to retreat to the basement as fast as you can, because every Vriska finds something disturbed in her block that wasn’t her own mess, you can bet actual money that the hive gets chaotic. Karkat gets involved and the sight is never pretty. As you predicted, Vriska’s yelling wakes up the entire hive, and Karkat’s yelling is blocked out by the basement door.

You like the mother grub. She is big and warm and fuzzy. You come down here when you have nightmares sometimes. Sometimes, the sleepwalking takes you down here, but not very often. The only time Kanaya bars entry is when the mother grub is breeding. Every other time, when you’re not gardening that is, you come down to hang out with Aradia.

Right now, the mother grub is sleeping soundly. You sit down next to her and gently lean on her side to let the breathing movements relax you. You weren’t sleepy before, but you are now. You have a nap right then and there.

* * *

Kanaya has had it up to her horns with Vriska’s nonsense. First, she keeps her block a complete disaster, then she goes and accuses Jaya of theft! Of all people! Kanaya wouldn’t give it a second thought if either Vrissa or Endire were the culprits. At seven human years, they take after their ancestors in terms of mischief. Perhaps even Laxxon if he wasn’t so focused on pyrotechnics and scaring Kanaya out of her wits. She vows to speak with Sollux about that the next time his descendant pulls another antic. The other young ones are fine, as long as Karkat is around.

“Vriska, that accusation is completely unsound,” Kanaya says calmly. “You know that Jaya is only interested in firearms.”

“I know!” Vriska yells. She takes her novelty magic ball toy and throws it against the ground. Instead of shattering to pieces like the ones on Alternia do, it simply clunks down and the plastic orb refuses to even crack. Kanaya is surprised the wood can sustain such force. Kanaya rolls her eyes at the tantrum.

“Are you sure that you put it in this room?”

“Yes. It’s with all my other treasures and contraband.”

This is news to Kanaya. Has she been confiscating gifts? “Have you been confiscating things for indefinite periods of time?”

“Only as punishment. Besides, Meenah was the one who brought it from Alternia. I only took it as payment for her services, which she handed over eagerly. And she didn’t remember it existed when we landed here.”

Kanaya now understands everything. “It sounds to me as if she remembered.”

“She shouldn’t. I didn’t even tell her it survived the crash.” Vriska scoffs as if she’s impressed. “She’s smarter than she lets on.”

Kanaya has no doubt that Vriska is missing her mind powers. Kanaya has no comfort for that. No sympathy, either. She can respect Vriska as an independent and a provider, but that sums it up.

As soon as Vriska is tolerable enough to leave to her own devices, Kanaya ventures to find Karkat, who she had to shoo away because the yelling was escalating to violence. She spots him as he disappears into the trees, possibly to the memorial plot. She leaves the hive to follow him. The walk is peaceful, and she scans the canopy for a Nepeta sighting. She doesn’t find the huntress, which means she’s doing her job well. She can also respect Nepeta for doing what she can with the limited wildlife on the island. She works well with Jaya, too. They’re hunting geniuses, and they bring the best out of each other’s talents.

“I’m not asking, Terezi,” Karkat says in the distance. Kanaya is about to make herself known when she remembers that Karkat does not like to be intruded upon when he is pouring his feelings to Terezi’s memorial stone. Instead, she hides, watching him from roughly thirty feet away. Listening too, because she can’t help her meddling sometimes.

“I’m not asking, Terezi,” he repeats, “I’m telling you. I’m developing strange feelings for someone again. I don’t know if it’s the Jaya human and her human culture influencing me, but the best way I can describe it is, and I can’t believe I’m quoting this, ‘beyond the quadrants.’ It’s like some fucking discombobulated two-for-one deal that my fucking ancestor wrote about once, and there’s no other way to describe it.” A pause. “I’m talking to a goddamn rock here…”

He sits down cross-legged and by the look of his posture, he is glaring at the rock. Kanaya feels a heavy desire to understand who and what he’s talking about. But at the same time, pressure in her chest urges her to stay in denial. Confound her meddling!

He sighs before continuing. “I’ll tell you one thing, my useless trove of trashy troll romance novel trivia all say that when you combine the quadrants like that, it could really mess you up.” Another pause. “You remember that movie I made you watch, the one adapted from that especially trashy series that I used to like, where they combined the quadrants in a ‘rails with pails’ situation and I compared it to us? As it turns out, I was completely wrong. That time I told you about? When I had red feelings once? Well, they didn’t go away. And even though we were never moirails, I was always comfortable saying the dumbest shit around her. It felt incredibly pale and it was nice. It still is nice. But then I keep paying attention to what she does all damn day and see her being a decent troll, and how she respects everyone from little shit stains like me to assholes like Eridan and Vriska… There’s admiration for sure.”

While Karkat lists off the others, Kanaya keeps track of who is named and who isn’t.

“Fuck.” He takes a sharp breath. “And it’s not as if the adolescent trolls don’t already talk about our relationship behind our backs. Jaya has been explaining human culture through the movie tapes and keeps naming the ‘mom’ and ‘dad’ characters as us. I still have no fucking clue what that means.”

Kanaya knows exactly what that means. She has to stop this immediately. Jaya has repeatedly named the parental figures in movies as both herself and Karkat. Sometimes, when Vriska used to bring home fashion magazines, they had wedding editions. In some of them, they mentioned mothers and fathers and how red they are, or the human equivalent. For one thing, she remembers what Roxy told her once about weddings, and what happens the night of. Kanaya had in turn told her the troll equivalent, which was decidedly the red quadrant. And for another thing, she knows the feelings she has for Karkat, and they are not so flushed.

“Karkat!” she calls out. He turns around in shock, and she watches his expression turn to anger, then embarrassment in a split second. She opens her mouth to speak, but words fail her.

* * *

You slipped into the dream again, waking up in that golden bed. You try to wake up, since you are in the basement in the waking world, but still fail to do so. You sigh and turn to the middle of the room where the pad is. You gasp loudly when you see the woman still standing there.

“Who are you?” you demand, sitting up.

“Forgive me, your grace,” she says calmly. Your grace?! “I am who was formerly known as the White Queen. I once ruled a mighty nation, as you can see by the vast city outside your tower on this moon.”

That explains why you haven’t seen anyone. They’re all on the planet attached to your abode by the massive chain. You can only see the chain if you squint from your tower. The planet is a lot bigger, from what you can tell. You’re too scared to travel down to it because of the sleepwalking.

“You have questions. I will answer them in time.”

You nod. You’ve never met a queen before. Even if this world isn’t real, it’s weird to experience a plot in your dreams for once.

“But first we must know your name.”

“Jaya.”

The queen smiles. “Jaya. Let me be the first to welcome you to Prospit.”

“Prospit.” The name naturally rolls off your tongue. You venture to the window and look at the clouds. They’re showing their usual future weirdness, but then one catches your eye. It shows you flying and spinning in the air in the very dress you’re wearing now. “Your majesty?” you ask, pointing to the cloud.

“Yes?” She walks right up next to you and follows your finger. “Ah yes, the legends state that the sleeping princess will be able to fly when she awakens.”

“I’m not a princess,” you say, looking straight down to the ground hundreds of feet below. Princesses are fragile and ladylike. You aren’t really either. You’re tough. But what is ladylike anyway? You think of Kanaya as the most ladylike person you know, and she’s a troll. The only thing that makes you remotely like a princess is your long hair. You like your long hair. You take care of it as best as you can.

“But you have been sleeping here for as long as any of my remaining subjects can remember.” She sighs wistfully. “All they speak of now is the tower on the moon and the girl sleeping inside. Long ago, our ancestors announced the arrival of a lost princess. We had no use for such legends, so we left them alone. That is, until our planet was nearly destroyed by invaders. Millions were killed when we did not comply to their demands. The rest went into hiding until the destruction stopped.” All the ruins make sense now. “When we were finally able to live freely again, all we had were the legends. So we gathered our remaining population and constructed this tower. We were fortunate to have not a single casualty. I remember visiting often, waiting for you to appear. I did for many years, but it remained empty. In that time, our numbers dwindled. Food was scarce and sacrifices were tragically made without permission. We had lost hope. And then suddenly, five years ago…” You turn your gaze up to hers. “…There you were. So small. Too small for the bed we provided for you. The clouds assured us you’d grow. The sleeping princess shall grow, then wake.”

“Five years ago?”

“Yes.”

You look back out the window, gazing across the cityscape again. “That was when I lost my memory.” Every time you try to remember, your head starts to hurt. The clouds haven’t revealed your past and you don’t think they ever will.

Sympathy suddenly passes over the queen’s face. “Oh,” she says with a concerned sigh. “You must feel very lost.”

You smile at her. “Not really!” The queen tilts her head. “I was taken in by some good people. They’re annoying sometimes, and they yell, but I think it’s because they care. Especially Karkat.”

The queen smiles with anticipation. “Well, I will surely hear all about it the more time we spend together. But for now, let us teach you to fly. Without that ability, you won’t be able to visit us on the planet.”

You feel the blood drain from your face. “Okay,” you gulp.

The queen steps back and lifts your hand up. You think about simply floating, and apparently that was enough. You’re hovering inches off of the ground and you get so excited that you float even higher. You laugh, and the queen laughs in turn.

“Can I?” you say, pointing to the window. The queen nods. You bite your bottom lip with glee and carefully float to the window pane and stand on it.

You think about flying and almost immediately, you are moving straight out from the window. You make yourself straight and put your fists forward like superman, and suddenly you’re zooming into the horizon. You spread out your arms like a bird and steer left and right, dodging broken buildings and making loops in the air, all while whooping and laughing. You fly around like this for what seems like hours. You stop and hover, turning behind you to look at the tower you left behind. It’s a toothpick in the distance now.

You laugh out loud again, and then like a candle being blown out, it’s over. You’re awake. You find that you are still in the basement, and you haven’t moved from the mother grub’s side. You must have flown hundreds of miles, too. You determine that flying eliminates the sleepwalking completely.

You can’t wait to tell the others. Not about Prospit, of course. That’s too special. Kanaya will certainly be happy that you’re not in any danger of walking off a cliff or into the ocean anymore. You stand up and give the mother grub one last rub before going upstairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's title is brought to you by Dillon Francis


	41. Half Past Pale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M NOT DEAD YAY!!! I know it's been almost a year, but I have three jobs and the only place I have this work is on my old computer on a word document. Every single one of my stories since 2014 has been written on google docs and posted by my new computer. For now, it'll have to stay that way ^^;  
> This chapter is dedicated to all the karnaya fans out there.

“Karkat!” Karkat is startled to say the least. He thought he was alone at the memorial stones and Kanaya may or may not have heard every word he has said. He wants to kick himself, he feels so stupid. She makes her way to him, like a storm with an agenda.

“Kanaya!” he sputters as he awkwardly gets to his feet. He almost slips in the damp earth.

“I am not usually one to interrupt while mourning, but the things you said…” She pauses in speech mere feet from him. She takes a deep breath and continues. “While I do appreciate the compliments you have paid me, what I cannot fathom is why you just wouldn’t say them outright.”

He frowns slightly. “What? No, I—” He stops himself. Has he actually ever said any of those things to Kanaya’s face? He can’t remember for the life of him. He’s sure he’s said something similar at least once. What’s worse is that he can’t even pinpoint any time which they had actually shared their feelings besides simultaneous disgust and-slash-or worry. “Fuck.”

They wait for the other to speak. At least, that’s what Karkat is doing. The sounds of nature continue around them as if the awkward tension between them is nonexistent.

It’s not like Karkat made it awkward. That’s what he thinks so it must be at least close to the truth. Although come to think of it, his truth does have the tendency to be blown out of proportion. It was one of the things Terezi said that weighed him down the most. He gets an idea into his head and interprets it beyond natural logic. It almost cost them their hive once. Karkat has never forgiven himself for that, or much else for that matter. His mistakes are a long list he’ll never forgive himself for.

“Since we are here, would you like to clarify your feelings?”

“If it were easy for me to do that, do you think we’d even be here?”

“If you mean on this planet, then no.”

Karkat briefly raises his hands next to his head in a gesture of frustration but forces them back down. “I mean the atmosphere. It’s thick with unnecessary tension.”

“What kind of tension?”

Karkat gets it now. She’s asking him specific questions so that he’ll tell her everything. A part of him wants to. Really wants to. But another part wants to be like a spoiled child and act out of spite. A third part of him wants a feelings jam with benefits.

“Karkat?”

“It’s the kind of tension that hates its hand being forced to extrapolate on things that are not meant to be forced out.”

“I see.” She doesn’t look satisfied with his response. She’s waiting for him to continue. He chooses to not, so he begins to walk past her, back to the mansionhive. “You practically explained everything to _her_.”

He stopped dead in his tracks, shoulder to shoulder with her. He turns to face her and puts his hand on her shoulder to face him. She looks angry, which is only a slight furrowing of her brow. He saw her like this with Vriska quite a few times when the blueblood was being bitchier than usual. Kanaya’s expression only makes his own anger flare. “Fuck you.”

“Remove your hand,” she says lowly. She looks him dead in the eye. “Now.”

He does.

* * *

“I need to know,” Kanaya says, accidentally cracking her voice. She doesn’t like being angry, but emotions are high at the moment and she finds it difficult to control herself. Sometimes she acted out when she was younger, but she had Vriska then…

“What?” Karkat demanded.

“I need to know when this started.” She says it more confidently, but forgets to specify whether she meant the pale feelings, the red ones, or the terrifying amalgamation of both.

He scoffs and turns back to face the memorial stones. After a few seconds, he stalks to a fallen tree and drops himself on it. She follows him and does the same. “The pale feelings I have had since the trip. At least, that’s what I’ve convinced myself to believe.”

Kanaya’s eyes widen. From that long ago? She cannot imagine how they must have been initially developed. They did not speak very much then, but she does remember her enthusiasm when he revealed that he knew her ancestor. That their ancestors knew _each other_. They haven’t spoken about it since, either, if she remembers correctly.

“It took me until Jaya’s arrival to realize what the other feelings were.”

“Why didn’t you approach me?” she asked. The memory of his flushed face when she scared the young trolls off with her chainsaw comes to her mind. She smiles only a little bit.

“No wait, it was a little earlier than that.” He gulps and averts his gaze. “Way earlier.”

Kanaya swallows. “When?” she asks softly.

“While I was gone.”

Kanaya felt her jaw slacken. Was she breathing? She forgot how.

“I got into a huge argument with Sollux and he pointed out that I was acting strange around you, like I acted around…”

“Terezi?”

Karkat did not specifically confirm it in words, but in brief silence. “Not my proudest moment. We established our blackrom that night, actually.”

“Oh.” Kanaya feels the need to return the favor. She took a breath. She knows for sure that her feelings once upon a time were pale. She will continue to believe that until something else stirs in her that will register as something closer to red.

* * *

“What about you?” Karkat asks. While they’re on this odd and dangerous journey through the red and pale badlands, he has never been more vulnerable. It’s a completely different feeling, being exposed like this. He is feeling things that he has never experienced with Gamzee. Rather, growing up in similarly isolated backgrounds were the only things they had in common, which sparked their friendship, then he found out others were equally alone growing up, and just stayed with Gamzee because he was the only one who actually paid Karkat any attention before their childhood friend Feferi hired him to be her “campaign manager” as she coined it. She brought him and Eridan with her everywhere until he lost touch with Gamzee completely. He only found out he had enlisted in the military after Vriska technically brought them all together.

This is the closest he has gotten with anyone, _ever_. That said, he knows he’s not doing this right, because every trashy romance that he has seen or read always had a solution. He can’t control someone else’s feelings, so there’s nothing he himself can do.

“My pale feelings were solidified the moment you returned,” she says. Karkat is taken aback. If he remembers correctly, then that was before she and Vriska had broken up. “Goodness!” she exclaims, laughing to herself. “That was almost thirteen years ago!”

Karkat chuckles awkwardly with her. Then he sees jade tears streaming down her face. He’s about to reach over to wipe them away but she beats him to it, using the back of her hand to quickly dry her cheeks.

“I apologize.”

“Don’t.”

“I still feel that I should return the favor, Karkat.” She gets up suddenly. Before he can ask, she says, “I am making a pile.” She takes off her shawl and places it gingerly on the log. She faces him. “I know it’s unconventional, but I would like to pledge your moiraillegiance. If you would have mine, that is. Every sector of Alternia had their own pale rituals, but I only had the caves, and the Mother Grub is not very communicative, and Vriska and I have been together since we were grubs, so…”

He stands up suddenly, and her breath hitches. “Kanaya Maryam. I can’t say this any simpler without sounding like a nookbag, but yes.”

She gives him a gentle expression. But it’s not of pity. As much as that disappoints him, he is willing to be with her this way instead. He feels a sense of odd familiarity, but also relief bordering on euphoric. In an attempt to alleviate it, he goes into another direction to find some leaves and pine needles to help make the pile. They spend a good ten minutes looking for the materials. It takes less than ten seconds to put it together and make use of it. It’s not until they comfortably face each other on the pile when they speak again.

“You were saying?” Karkat prompts.

“Yes, thank you.” She smiles, cheeks a pleasant shade of green.

He’s sure that she’s flushed as well. No, Vantas. Stop. He chides himself. Good thing she hasn’t started yet.

“Wait!” Karkat says before she can speak. He just remembered his ancestor’s journal. He promised her fifteen years ago that he would tell her about their ancestors. He is going to fulfill that promise now. “Do you want to know more about The Dolorosa? I—”

“Don’t worry about it,” she hushes him. He complies. “You can tell me later. Right now, let’s focus on the jam.”

Karkat nods. He swallows and lets her continue.

“As you are aware, it has been a while since I have had a proper moirail. As the years go on, I have realized that trolls need moirails when they are put into unusual circumstances beyond their control. It goes unsaid that we do have some unusual circumstances here. I don’t mean to force sentimental travel sacks upon you, but this is something I have needed for a long time.”

“N-no, it’s fine. I haven’t had much luck with moirails, either. I’m already used to taking my feelings and shoving them into my own sentimental travel sacks.”

* * *

After that, they let everything spill out.

“When we first arrived, I decided that I would be the matriarch, and Vriska would lead as usual. And when she reverted back to her old self, I could not deal with it as calmly as I should have.”

“Just so you know, I think you’re still the calmest person on the island. Compared to all these other assholes, you’re the only one I can fucking stand.”

Kanaya simply smiled at the compliment. Karkat lets out a sigh.

“I honestly don’t care if I ever see Gamzee again.”

“If I ever see Meenah again, I will make her pay. She did love to collect gold, after all.”

“The only reason Terezi and I ever got together was because she stole my ancestor’s journal and gave it to Feferi. Some shit happened and it brought us extremely close. I don’t think I ever let her hear the end of it.”

“Vriska was never very lucky. She always carried these lucky charms with her everywhere, including one that I made myself. The day she accepted it was the day I started pitying her. The day I stopped was when she fell in love with her own, non-sentient ship.”

“It pisses me the fuck off that Sollux black-flirts with Eridan so much. It makes me want to beat him over the head.”

“When I was younger, I would find myself developing strong gray feelings for every black relationship I saw. I am ashamed to admit that I shipped myself with Troll Jennifer Aniston and Troll Angelina Jolie, even though the media outlets made it perfectly clear that they had no interaction whatsoever. It was a habit to dream.”

“When I was younger, and I suppose I still do, I read trashy quadrant novels, often with the strangest of combinations. This one book—”

“Spare the title.”

“—showed a strain of such individuals, and the taboo skewed my views for a while. It was a very toxic time.”

Nepeta sighs at the sight from her perch. She had heard enough for today. Of course, she hadn’t been watching for the conversation. But one thing was for sure, and that was that she needed to update her shipping wall. For now, she would confirm them for the pale ship, although if her Equius had ever come on to Nepeta like that, she would never have agreed to be his moirail.

A part of her did not want to see that he pitied the jade-blood, but a bigger part of her realized that if Karkat was happy, then everyone else in the mansionhive was happy.

Nepeta giggled before bounding away, leaving them to their affairs.

* * *

Your name is Jaya Maryam-Vantas, and you are now sixteen years old. You have been visiting Prospit every night in your dreams since the night of your thirteenth birthday, learning everything there was to know about everything there. The White Queen had dubbed herself the Windswept Questant, relinquishing her crown. The remaining people had followed suit, giving themselves clever new adventurer names. You have nicknamed yourself “Journeying Huntress.” True, it doesn’t quite match your initials, but you like being a hunter nonetheless.

They also introduced a special machine called an “alchemizer,” which is an allegedly obsolete technology they developed centuries ago to help build the magnificent golden planet, and figured you would find a use for it.

You did.

You began to make _everything_. You made clothes, instruments, weapons, combinations of the three… and then had the brilliant idea of setting up your room with it.

You would get the alchemizer up there later, you think. But for tonight, you decorate.

You wake up from the dream with a new passion for home décor. Kanaya tells you everything she knows about design and you get right to it. You draw countless floor maps and get rid of them all. None of them were just right yet. You need more time in the tower first.

Another thing you loved about the tower was how close you were to the clouds when you weren’t flying. You stare at them all the time, and they show you different people that you feel like you knew once upon a December. _Human_ people. Sometimes they showed your troll family. They showed you the moment Karkat and Kanaya became moirails when you were twelve. Around the same time, they depicted two boys your age holding hands, but you never saw their faces. For two whole weeks they held hands. Then suddenly they didn’t, and they haven’t since, even though the clouds still showed them as friends. You always wondered why they had separated. They seemed civil enough. You almost saw one of their faces once, and he had glasses, just like you, but they were rectangle-shaped instead of circle-shaped.

The clouds told you everything and nothing. They revealed things, but not information. You hoped they would tell you about your past, but so far they had only shown you the future. You know it’s the future because they have accurately predicted events for the next day about her troll family. They showed her what design for glasses you got before you even realized you needed glasses. With this new height, she could even take them off.

They showed you something weird tonight. A troll you’d never seen before was trapped somewhere dark and cramped, and she was struggling. She looked very tired and cold. They didn’t show her face, as usual with people you don’t remember, but it didn’t stop you from feeling sorry for her. The clouds never showed you exact times, but the vision showed you ice on the walls even though it wasn’t winter. You see a rope being lowered down to her, aiding her escape. She emerged from the hole to someone holding a double-ended trident and they stand triumphantly at the edge of a cliff together. Just as you were getting into it, another cloud comes along and blocks that one. You pout until you see the image.

Someone was stealing your glasses.

You wake up immediately.

“Run!” someone cries. You blink away the tiredness and see Killen and Fushya, your four-sweep-old roommates, running away. Thankfully, your glasses are still in your possession. This is not the first time. They like to take your glasses and fuck with you. You sigh with relief that this time they didn’t throw them in the ocean. Vriska would kill you.

Looking out the window, you see that it’s already daylight and get out from under the covers of your very old bed. It’s a twin size, but the frame has no legs. The poverty you live in bothers you daily, but you always figure it could be worse.

Things get worse when you are forced asleep just as you are getting out of bed. _Vriska._

The Questant was in your room. She does not look well. Her dark eyes are red from crying and she looks at you with such pain.

She informs you that yet another Prospitian has died. Her dark eyes sink deeper every day and it’s because of the disappearance of her people. Her sorrow makes her more pale than ever, and there’s nothing you can do about it. The Windswept Questant told you years ago that when in isolation, her people get sick and die. It is imperative that they stick together. The same thing works with Dersites, their mortal enemies with whom they share DNA. You like to think that since they share DNA they should join forces, but it’s impossible with no transportation and centuries-long grudges on the Prospitian sides. You want to study more eventually.

You are in the middle of a funeral service before you are interrupted by life outside of the dreamscape. You didn’t want to wake up in tears.

But you did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's title was brought to you by The Weeknd.


	42. I3A2: Don't Tell Your Mother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Intermission 3 Act 2: John and Dave are in middle school, hormones are everywhere, and Jane and Dirk finally figure out what the heck their relationship is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaannnnnnd I have finally finished this monster. I don't usually write or ship johndave, so please forgive me if it sounds forced or unnatural. It took me very many moons to write this and I hope you enjoy!  
> This chapter's title is brought to you by: Demi Lovato ("cool for the summer" because reasons)

2006

Dave: Say something, anything.

“No, that’s gay. Stop, please.” You have nothing against the homosexual population, but the thing that John is doing currently isn’t convincing enough to be straight like he claims himself to be.

“Dave, it’s okay,” John says with that impish grin of his. You roll your eyes.

“John, have you ever thought once that turning thirteen would be the highlight of your middle school career?” You yourself are almost out of middle school, being fourteen this past December. You’re just glad to finally be leaving middle school. You look at John while the thought crosses your mind. John had no consideration for others’ secondhand embarrassment. It was the day of his birth, April thirteenth, so you guess he has some excuse to do whatever he wants. You catch yourself spacing out at John’s ridiculous outfit for umpteenth time this morning.

John seems to notice that you’ve been staring and assumes the Wonder Woman pose. “It’s not gay to be wearing a pair of dapper suspenders on the outside of your jacket. And just because they happen to have Squiddles on them, doesn’t mean I’m playing for the other team.” He straightens his suspenders nonchalantly. Sweet fuck, where’s the fucking bus? John’s backpack had better hide those damn things, because if you go out of middle school like this, you will never forgive Egbert. True he’s a year-and-a-half younger than you are so he’ll be joining high school a year after. But you still don’t like the possibility that middle school reputations can soil your high school one. Your bro is always saying that high school is where the action of your youth happens, but if John is there to sabotage it every single time some of the action decides to present itself, escapades with the female gender for instance, then you will be seriously considering a secession from the union.

As if you had willed it into being by sheer embarrassment, the bus rounds the usual corner and squeals to a stop. You pick the back of the bus on purpose, which you know that John hates, and he begrudgingly sticks to his distaste. You plug your MP3 player into your ears and let your remixes drop beats into your eardrums.

* * *

John: Realize.

Your name is John Egbert and you have just realized that you might be alone in this gambit you have invented, but Dave is going to laugh so hard when you tell him you are doing the whole suspender thing as one huge joke. While it may be true he doesn’t laugh very much apart from things that are utterly confusing and ironic in his “professional ironic opinion,” this time you’re finally going to do it. It’ll be a totally unironic gift from the most ironic guy on earth.

Of course he chose the seat you hate. He’s better than you thought. You’re the first ones on the bus and the ride to school is only going to create more potential for embarrassment from here on out. The bus groans and stops to let more kids on. They pass you without a second glance. They’re all focused on finding window seats. The more that pass you, the more you’re reminded that Dave is the only one who still talks to you after elementary school. _And you’re going to a K-8 school._

He is still ignoring you by the time you get off the bus.

The prank continues unsuccessfully through homeroom, which you two share.

You consider taking the damn things off in first period. You have received some stares and various laughter from the other kids. You wonder if the more well-off kids are spreading rumors about your sexuality. You don’t even know yourself, so it’s literally none of their business! Sure you’ve had questions that are still unanswered but you figure you’re going to take your time with them. Make sure the answers you get are the right ones. Maybe you’re just a procrastinator.

One period is all it took for you to take them off yourself. You’re late to second period because you took a detour to the bathroom in between classes. You put the suspenders deep in the biggest pocket of your backpack and you feel the metal clasps digging into your spine through the thin foam structure. You’ve been using the bag since you got it for your final birthday party in the mansion (yeah right, as if someone thought they were going to school at the time), and it sported a faded, sun-bleached photo of a wrestler on it. It’s vintage, and it’s not like your mom can afford much else anyway. A lot of the stuff she’s given you for your birthdays after that were from secondhand stores, like the suspenders. You don’t mind. You don’t really have a penchant for common riches anyway. That is why you, from the lessons your mom has taught you, have turned to jokes and pranks. Laughter is free, as long as you aren’t offensive.

But enough about the depressing shit!

You at least get to eat lunch before something actually happens.

As per usual, your teachers escort your class to lunch and pick you up just in time for the bell to ring for the next class. You and Dave usually pass by each other and high five in the hallway, since they organize lunch by grade level and he’s older. But today that didn’t happen. Wow, rude. You don’t dwell on it. But it does nag your brain thoughts.

You decide to go to the bathroom during class and take your time getting back so you can look for Dave. You powerwalk past his classroom in the adjacent hallway and don’t see him through the door like you usually can. By this time you actually have to go to the bathroom and find him there, surrounded by some taller and larger boys who obviously flunked a grade or two. What was this, a stereotypical teen movie? Like a chump, you hide behind a corner to watch.

“Look, Rocky and Bullwinkle and friends, it’s been fun, but I have to go back to class,” Dave says. The tallest boy puts his hand in front of Dave, blocking his path. You softly suck in a breath. Bad move.

“Hey, we’re all friends here, right?” the same boy said. You think his name is Thomas but you can’t remember for sure. If that _is_ Thomas, then his friends are fellow flunkies named Chris and Petyr. Famous flunkies. Maybe you should be writing this down.

“Thomas, you can’t friend your way out of a wet paper bag,” Dave quips. Thomas’s friends jeer at him at that comment. He yells at them to shut up.

“Well at least I’m not a fucking fairy!” He shoves Dave’s sternum. You suddenly feel the urge to beat the shit out of Thomas, but with none of the willpower and an averse reaction to being hit in the face.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Dave says, faking shock. “While I do admit that it is hard receiving the attention of both the ladies and the dudes, batting them left and right like Babe Ruth at his peak, I don’t understand why you feel the need to project like this. I think you have some issues to work on. Would like to talk about that? How does that make you feel?”

“What the fuck? You’re the unnatural one, you piece of shit!”

“No, what’s unnatural is me getting more ass than you. Oh wait never mind, that’s just natural selection.”

That comment earned Dave a sock to the nose. If they could touch him, that is. He dodges and Thomas’s fist flies straight into the wall behind Dave. Thomas yells, but immediately silences himself as his two friends help him get his hand out. Dave reappears behind the group, hands in his pockets. That flash-stepping of his has saved his ass more times than you can remember. He first showed you the skill when you first met, and the two of you sometimes exploit it for the sake of pranking.

Chris speaks up next. “You coward! Go run to your boyfriend!”

Petyr adds, “You tell him his little suspendered ass is next!”

“Glad to know you’re so progressive about this, and I’ll be sure to give him your support,” Dave says before turning on his heel towards you. You can’t duck back in time and he sees you. His face goes white, then as red as his baseball shirt sleeves.

* * *

Dave: Feel the heat.

You wish that you had the leg power to turn around and get the shit beaten out of you. John saw the fight. Or at least heard the last line there. In the reflection on the side of your sunglasses, you see Thomas and his buddies get him out of the wall and approach you. Things can’t get worse than the rocks behind you and the hard place in front of you. Instead, you decide to deal with neither and flash-step to class. Despite being a natural, it takes you about two steps to go forty feet. You try not to think about the mechanics too much.

You look back at John, who is hiding from Thomas and them. You’re about to ignore them when you notice that the bullies aren’t focused on you anymore. John is petrified against the corner. Before they can lay a hand on him, you flash-step to John and snatch him away to the bathrooms in the 7th grade hallway where he’s supposed to be. You two are jammed against a wall between a set of metal lockers.

“Dave, don’t do that all of a sudden!” John protests, shoving your hand away from his collar.

“Do you _want_ to get the shit beaten out of you?” you ask in a hushed voice. “Go back to class, I got this.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were getting bullied?” he whispers.

“ _That’s_ the first question you ask?” You actually are shocked, though. You think you hid it pretty well.

“Well, I kind of figured you were playing for the other team.”

“Oh my god.”

“And it’s fine! You’re a homosexual. I’m not, but nothing’s changed and I’ll still be your friend.”

“Will you please just shut up, you’ll attract unwanted attention from Captain Progressive and his gang of liberal peacekeepers.” At least he obeys when you threaten him with potential bodily harm from a couple of thugs.

The boys give up and you hear them going to their respective classes. The advantage of being in eighth grade is that nobody cares when you skip class this late in the year. Then again, this school only has about three-hundred kids total so the worst that can happen is getting noticed. You’ve had detention from skipping only once before but it was enough to call your Bro and some privileges were revoked. Getting noticed a second time would make you a repeat offender, so you hide. You’re used to this. John is not. You look back at him and notice that the suspenders are gone.

“You took off the suspenders.”

“I was getting weird looks.”

“So your best bro disapproves and you do jack, but when strangers do it you cave? I thought you respected my judgment at least a little more than that.”

“Of course I respect your judgment, I was just hoping you’d laugh for my birthday.”

It’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever heard. You let out a snort unwillingly through your nose. John suddenly looks up at you, a grin spreading across his face. He wanted you to laugh. His plan worked. “Well, shit,” you mutter. John elbows you roughly in the ribs and you cough out the air.

* * *

John: Receive.

Later that night, you get a new phone for your birthday. This is huge because your mom can’t possibly afford this, _and_ you’ve never owned one. You’ve been using Dave’s all this time.

“I decided that it’s time you get your own phone, with Dave going to highschool next year,” she says as you stare at the white box with stars in your eyes.

“Thanks, mom,” you mumble. It’s the most expensive thing you own, and it’s a brand new, trendy deep blue Razr phone. You think you’re going to keep this hidden at school. Now you can finally do things that kids with cell phones do. Whatever they are.

“But before we even open the box, we need to talk about using this phone.”

You let out a groan.

* * *

Dirk realized years ago that as children get older, the things they expect to be given on their birthday grows more and more expensive. Good hand-me-down toys can be five bucks, but good technology can be expensive as hell. That is why he applied for a job to be a beta tester for such technologies. He did research as best as he could to avoid companies that had deals and mergers with the Crocker Corporation, and found that only two cell phone companies didn’t have public relations with them. God bless Motorola and Clearwire.

As the “Egbert” family and the Strider family became closer, other sparks started to fly. At least that’s what Dirk perceived. He thought it odd on both ends, considering.

He saw that as Dave was growing up with John, they became inseparable, much to Dave’s dismay as his final year in middle school progressed, although he'd never admit it. Their early years were great. Dirk thought that maybe John’s sister would get along with Dave if she was ever found, but it’s probably not going to happen. If he lets his fantasy continue, he'd imagine that Rose would get along with them, too. All in all, Dirk is just happy that Dave is close with someone in general.

Jane had come over a few weeks before John’s birthday and asked him if the companies he worked for gave him any free products for free. Dirk didn’t think so until he asked his supervisor, who then told him that since everything they sent out was in beta, they had no current value. They sent him an extra phone a few days later. He gave it to Jane. She was ecstatic and gave his cheek a quick peck before getting suddenly flustered and taking off. He said a quiet, “you’re welcome” as she disappeared into her house across the field between their abodes. That cheek burned a good while after that.

He couldn’t remember a night where he didn’t stare at his dark ceiling thinking about the Crockerberts after he and Dave moved here.

As soon as he thought that, he mentally changed the subject. He hasn’t thought of his former partner or his daughter in a while. In all honesty, he was trying to forget. He remembers cutting her off after her mad descent into ridiculous conspiracy theories. But it didn’t mean that Rose deserved it, either. According to Jane, Roxy is fine now, but he still hasn’t touched his old PDA in years.

He sighs and sets his alarm for the morning.

* * *

Jane still can’t believe that she did that. She is a thirty-one-year-old woman acting like a lovestruck teenager! At least, she believes she’s thirty-one. In any case, Dirk came through on her suggestion. She’ll have to make it up to him. She could make him a hundred cookies and not get his money’s worth back. She dares not think that something like a simple peck would do the trick.

She doesn’t earn much, which doesn’t bother her. She and John live a simple life and she’s worried that it bothers _him_ . She avoided getting him a phone before _because_ they were so expensive. She went to the local cell provider and set up the phone in her name, chose a plan according to what John would most likely need, and now she hopes it will suffice.

She spends the days leading up to John’s birthday wracking her brain, trying to figure out how to make it up to Dirk.

She picks up her dying PDA after days of mulling over payback and turns it on. She has to wait a longer time every time she boots it up nowadays. She goes to her bed and sits down on the bed while she waits. Finally, she can open up PesterChum and starts a new conversation with Roxy.

 

gutsyGumshoe [GG] started pestering tipsyGnostalgic [TG] at 06:00 PM

 

GG: Roxy! Or Rose, whoever is reading this. :B  
GG: I just wanted to let you know that I am fine. We all are here.   
GG: My PDA is on its last legs so I anticipate that every message I send out will be my last for at least a little while.   
TG: hey gur   
GG: Roxy!   
TG: how is ur job going   
GG: Fine! More than fine!   
TG: ooooooh gimme deets   
TG: i need them to fill my dramaless life  
GG: Well, I will have you know that you are now talking to a real life detective!  
TG: :O   
GG: Since I have worked as a private investigator, they saw my experience and have hired me as a detective in my local station!   
GG: Although this island is pretty small and we don’t get many crimes, things are pretty calm. Mainly lost pets.   
TG: still   
TG: momma roxy is so proud   
GG: Thank you!

 

Jane’s PDA freezes for a moment, then loads a bunch of Roxy’s messages at once.

 

TG: youre so welcome  
TG: rose is also doing good   
TG: shes finishing up her second year in high school rn   
TG: shes studying so hard   
TG: you were right she has skipped a grade or 2 ;)   
TG: plus my job is so long and im getting rly old   
TG: how old is too old for emoticons   
TG: or shrthnd wrds lk ths   
TG: janey  
TG: janey  
TG: janey  
TG: janeyyyyyyyyy  
GG: Sorry, my PDA is acting up.  
GG: Tell Rose I’m happy for her!   
GG: If she even remembers me.   
TG: dont worry if she forgot abt u then she wouldnt google the crocker name every night   
GG: What?!   
TG: its not that big of a deal   
TG: i erase the browser history and any word documents she might have created   
TG: its MY computer after all   
TG: i know my shit   
GG: Roxy!

 

Jane can’t believe this. She can’t believe she has been outed by a fourteen-year-old. A very smart and gifted fourteen-year-old. She wonders how Roxy deals, but then remembers that Rose gets her smarts from her mother.

 

TG: dont forget im smart too  
GG: I know.   
TG: . . . . . . . . . . .   
TG: hows   
TG: you know   
GG: What?   
TG: hold up if i fall asleep on the computer again and i forget to erase these chatlogs   
TG: then rose will gain   
TG: the access   
GG: We should speak in code, then.   
TG: smART   
GG: For starters, the younger one is doing pretty well.   
GG: Not as accomplished as yours, but nonetheless a survivor.   
GG: The older one

 

Jane accidentally hit “enter” instead of “backspace” and left Roxy alone with her imagination. Before Jane could type up a real response, her chatlog screen filled up with a wall of bubblegum-pink text. The connection must have faltered again.

 

TG: u kno what forget it i shouldnt evn care i just wanted to know even tho i dont deserve it but such is life i think abt them so much n theres just so much stuff i didnt say cuz i couldve written a dissertation on it but you know that already  
TG: what im sayin is that im okay not knowin for now   
TG: like if u started askin abt jake b4 he came n got u from that evil house but u had guilty feelings u prolly wouldnt want to know cuz he betrayed you   
TG: i betrayed the older 1 cuzza personal shit so i doubt he would want 2 know abt me   
TG: and since thats what seems 2 b happening   
TG: i just dont want to know   
TG: i mean i do but   
TG: i wont ask anymore ok   
TG: 2 take the stress off u   
TG: its ok   
TG: if the younger one can survive w out me then i think ill b ok   


Jane can only imagine what Roxy is feeling right now. Tears well up anyway. Jane’s thumbs hover over the keypad as she takes a careful breath before typing the hardest words she has ever said.

 

GG: I will respect your decision.  
GG: It’s true that if Jake had never come back for me, I would have hated him. I actually did in those few weeks he was gone.   
GG: I even attacked him with the handheld weapon you made me!   
GG: Silly in hindsight, right?   
TG: pfft im glad it got some use  
GG: And now that I’m a mother, I can’t imagine life without my children.  
GG: I can understand a little, though.   
GG: I want to see her again one day, but I don’t even know if she’s still alive.

 

Jane’s eyes well up again with the thought that there was no hope for finding Jade anymore. She came to terms with it. And since today was her and John’s birthday…

She chokes back a sob. She hadn’t forgotten, but she hadn’t given herself the chance to think about it, either. All these past birthdays had been so focused on John’s happiness so she never let herself focus on her daughter. Her breathing becomes ragged and she struggles to even hold up the PDA. Squeezing it, she lies down on her bed to curl against her almost-flat pillows. The thought of her needing to buy new ones does not even cross her mind. The PDA trills with a new message. It had gone into sleep mode. Jane hadn’t realized she had been crying for over half an hour until she got that notification.

 

TG: momming is hard and no one understands

* * *

Dirk decides to call out of work for the next day. It might have been John’s birthday earlier today, but it was Jade’s too. It never crossed his mind these past years that Jane might be mourning. Not to mention it was the fifth anniversary of the factory incident. There’s a chance Jade might still be alive, but it’s been years, so she’s probably come to terms with it by now.

Nevertheless, he still finds himself at the Egbert household at ten o’clock at night, hesitating to ring the bell.

* * *

John: Text Dave.

You type in a decent greeting and delete it. You type a different one and delete that, too. You’re only allowed five texts a day, since each one costs about twenty-five cents according to your mom. You close your eyes and hit send.

 

JOHN: hey dave!

 

Now you wait.

The doorbell chiming scares the shit out of you and you shove the phone under your pillow. You hear your mom answering it and a few minutes later the back door slides open and shut.

The phone ringing almost makes you shriek. You pull it out and answer it.

“I can’t receive texts, what’s up?” Dave says from the other end.

John: Give a clear, concise answer.

“Just making sure my phone works,” you answer.

John: You fucked up.

You box the side of your head in frustration.

“I’m also in your living room.”

John: Remain calm.

“Are you in bed? It’s a three day weekend. I half expected you to marathon Nick Cage movies or something.”

You throw the covers off and run to the door. You usually sleep in the clothes you wore the day before to bed, something your mom gives you shit for on a daily basis. You realize as you’re throwing the door open that your hair is probably a mess.

But then you remember that this is Dave we’re talking about, and he doesn’t care.

* * *

Dave: Just ask.

You and John have been playing the “who’s going to speak first” game. It’s not like if you were trying to be awkward. It just happens sometimes when your laundry gets discovered under your bed when someone comes in and says, “wow, it stinks,” and then you are forced to air it out in front of God and everybody. Like, holy shit, it’s not as if the president is coming over.

“So did you come with your bro?” John asks. He’s sitting on his bed, unable to focus on either you or his new phone, but both.

“Yeah, apparently he doesn’t trust that I’ll go to bed on time, so he makes sure I won’t by bringing me with him to a demi-romantic excursion.”

“A what?”

You pause, mouth open to say something. You forget sometimes John isn’t with the lingo from the 21st century. It’s like his vocab is stuck in the roaring twenties. “Forget it.”

* * *

Jane and Dirk sat cross-legged on the bare pavement for a moment before they both spoke.

“Thank you for the—”

“About the phone—”

They laugh awkwardly. “You first,” says Jane. What she has to say would only take a moment, but she saw how tense he was when he walked in. He can’t hide from her behind his sunglasses.

“No, go ahead,” he says.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, go for it.”

“Okay,” she breathes, “I just wanted to thank you for getting John the phone. We can't afford an expensive plan, but I think it'll be good for him. Giving him that independence with such an expensive piece of technology is more than I can ever ask for.” She gives him her best smile. “Thank you.”

Dirk relaxes his shoulders slightly. “You're welcome.” He pauses to look into the distance. Jane follows his gaze. Maybe it's the orange street lamps against the darkening sky, but she felt very much at ease next to him like this.

“What did you want to say?” she finally asks.

“Labels,” he says simply. Another pause. “Train of thought.” He faces her again. “What is this?” He gestures between the two of them with his finger. “What we have? I'm trying to find a name for it, but I am failing spectacularly.”

“Didn't know you could fail,” Jane says playfully.

“Ha, ha. But seriously. I've been dating both men and women for as long as I can remember, and not one relationship had what we have right now. The closest was Roxy, and we were practically two best friends raising two kids together.”

Jane holds her breath. She figured they would have this conversation eventually. She didn't quite know herself what was going on with them.

“In truth, I have struggled with this for a long time.”

“Me, too,” Jane blurts out. She breathes normally again, waiting for his response. It comes as natural as normal conversation.

“So just to make it clear, I’m going to try something. With your permission.” He takes off his sunglasses and looks her right in the eye.

She swallows nervously. No one has ever asked her right out like that before. The last time she did that sort of thing, there were no words. She respects that. “Alright.”

“Alright.”

It was only for a few seconds. It was not passionate, nor exploratory. But in that moment, she felt that she came to the same realization that he did.

“That was the most platonic kiss I’ve ever had.”

Jane laughs softly. “It was nice, though.”

He cracked his signature microscopic smile. “True.”

She grasps his fingers. He turns his wrist so that he is holding her hand in return. She feels a connection with him that she hadn’t felt, even with Jake. What she had with Jake was more like a schoolgirl crush that had devolved after nine months. What she has now with Dirk feels more like…

He puts his sunglasses back on. “But never again.”

“Indubitably.”

“We _really_ need to update your vocabulary.”

“No chance, buster.”

Soulmates. Platonic soulmates.

* * *

John: Try not to barf.

You gag, but don’t necessarily barf. Dave tried to warn you against spying on your guardians, but you didn’t listen.

“You said it,” Dave agrees.

“It’s like when our parents do it, it’s even worse!” you say a little too loudly.

“You know what, I’m not in the mood anymore.”

“The mood for what?” you ask.

“Nothing.” He turns back to the rest of the living room. “Where’s the remote?” He sits on the couch in front of the box TV.

“What!” You follow him. You legitimately have no idea what he’s talking about.

“Forget it!”

“Dave!”

“John!” He rips off his sunglasses and looks you right in the eye. It doesn’t faze you.

“Tell me!”

“For this!” He turns back to the front and puts his head in his hands. “Feelings! They make the words that are coming out of my mouth all stupid.”

You wrinkle your brow. “You’re not stupid. I mean, that sentence was phrased weird, but not stupid.” You avoid reading between the lines on purpose this time. You always were kind of dim, but you didn’t think you were _that_ bad.

Dave sighs and turns back to you. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay.” You put your hand on his.

He widens his eyes suddenly and jerks away.

You squint at him. “Rude.” You do it again.

“What the fuck, John?” He turns as red as his shirt.

“Hold my hand, Dave.” You try not to crack a grin.

“What?” He pulls both his hands to his chest.

“Hold my fucking hand.”

“Is this a prank?”

“Don’t you trust me by now?”

“Not as far as I can throw you.”

“Don’t you work out?”

“There’s a difference between sword-fighting and working out.”

“How about punching?”

“Are you asking me to punch you?”

“Come at me, bro.”

Dave scoffs, looking away. “I’m not punching you.”

You tap your fist against his arm. “Just a little tap.”

“Why would I want to punch you?”

“Because I’m being a little shit.”

Dave shrugs and gives you his usual deadpan look. “Fine.”

As he raises his fist and aims it at your arm, you snatch his wrist with one hand, and hold his clenched fist with the other. “You just got pranked.”

If it were possible to blush any further, Dave has done it. He’s frozen and you have won.

* * *

Dave: Kiss the boy.

Seriously, why are these ideas getting forced into your head like this? Not like you wanted to resist, but still. You like your brain silent every once in a while.

Getting to the matter at hand, literally, John’s pranks have gone too far this time. You froze and you don’t want to move.

“You lied to me,” you say.

“That was a prank,” he counters.

“You’re a master at lies if all your pranks are such fabrications.”

“Hey!”

He is still holding your hand.

“But if you’re still thinking of doing that thing you didn’t want to do earlier, then I’m okay with it.”

“What?”

“Or if not, I will respect your wishes not to do the thing.”

“Like you’re respecting my wishes not to have my hand be touched by your hand?”

He dropped your hand immediately, smarmy grin still plastered on his face. “What hands?”

God. Damn. This. Kid. “Oh, fuck it.” You grab his hands and lean in slowly. John seems to get the message and fill in the rest of the space. Just touching lips with John was the weirdest fucking feeling. But it was a good feeling. It’s as if all the tension that had been pent up over the last year that you’ve been hiding your feelings have been released.

“Was that your first kiss?” John asks as soon as you two separate.

“Uh...” you mutter. “Would it make any difference if it was?”

“Hmm...”

You open your eyes to analyze the situation. John’s shit-eating grin was back.

“It was, wasn’t it?”

“N-no!”

“It totally was!” John laughs. “Dave ‘batting girls and guys left and right like Babe Ruth at his peak’ Strider has never been kissed!”

“I’ll punch you for real if you say anything else about it.”

John finishes laughing and sighs, amused. “Don’t worry, I haven’t either.”

You snort, not letting on that you really like it when John laughs like that. Like a fucking idiot.

“So if all the movies I watch are accurate, then there should be a transition with pop music playing in the background that implies that we’re dating now.”

You frown. “Wait, what?”

* * *

Jane opens the back door to a couple of boys arguing over the remote. She lets go of his hand and goes to break up the fight. Dirk feels the lack of human warmth and grips his hand. He’s glad that he and Jane had gotten on the same page now. There wasn’t anything romantic in their encounter, but it went beyond any normal friendship. They have both been through things individually that no normal human should be forced to go through.

Maybe Dirk is thinking too much, but maybe the universe is putting them together for a reason.

“Bro, can we go homo?” Dave asks. Everyone stops to stare. “Home! Fuck! Don’t read anything into that!”

“Too late,” Dirk says. “But yes, we’re going home now.”

“Finally,” he mutters, already halfway to the door.

Jane laughs. “Come back anytime, boys!”

Dirk nods. “Will do.” He joins Dave at the front door. Dirk looks back and gives a single wave.

As they leave the house, he realizes that it is completely dark. He leads Dave across the field like a normal pair of humans.

Dave is quiet as usual, but he’s shuffling more than normal.

“Did something happen between you and John?” Dirk asks.

“Whatever gave you that idea?” Dave deadpans.

“Your lip gloss is smeared.”

“What?” Dave puts his fingers up to his mouth.

Dirk knows that he doesn’t wear lip gloss. But the fact that he put his hand up anyway at the key word in that question confirms that something of the lip variety happened while the guardians were having a moment.

“I don’t fucking wear lip gloss!”

“Something did happen, though. Your reaction confirmed it.”

“I!” he pauses, then mutters, “Stop messing with my head.”

“You’d know if I was messing with your head. I’m just saying that I’m smarter than you think I am.” He fiddles with the keys and unlocks the door. Dave flash-steps inside and slams his door. Dirk draws his mouth to the side. That kid is something else.

He fixes himself a sandwich as he ponders what to say to Dave. As his guardian, Dirk knows that he needs to be supportive no matter what. He mulls over his brotherly monologue as he eats.

* * *

Dave: Go to bed already.

No. You’re going to overthink the fact that you’re dating John for another seven hours. At _least_. You have your comforter thrown over your entire body and your pillow covering your head. Surprise, surprise, it’s a terrible idea because you are still blushing like a girl. Did that really happen? You hope it did. You never expected John to go into the relationship so easily. He’s always spouting some sort of denial, and you fell for him regardless.

It’s a ton of bricks.

Suddenly, someone knocks on the door and you practically leap out of your socks.

“Dave? I know you’re awake.”

Bro. You stay silent.

“You know I pick on you, but I just wanted you to know that I support whatever sexual orientation you identify with.”

You stifle a groan. Too much information.

“The truth is, even though I don’t label myself as such, I do get attracted to more than one gender from time to time.”

You grab your pillow and actually groan into it.

“And if you want to date boys, I’m okay with it.”

That’s it. You get up and go over to the door.

“Sup, Dave?”

“Please just shut up, I’m tired,” you tell him without looking up.

“One last thing.”

You look up, grimacing.

“You can always talk to me about anything. You know that, right?”

You throw your head back. “Fine. Can I go to bed now?”

“Go ahead, little man. See you in the morning.”

You forcefully shut the door. Not quite slamming it, but strongly enough to let your bro know that you’re tired and you really need your space right now.

An hour later, you fall asleep smiling.

* * *

John: Process the events from tonight.

You can’t believe you did that. It was so spur of the moment, and it felt alright. You’ve never really felt anything for Dave before besides friendship. But this might be something new and exciting.

“John, are you in bed yet?” his mom calls from the kitchen.

“Yes!” you answer, not actually in bed. You’re crouching by your bed, hiding from the door, staring at your phone. Is calling someone so soon a thing that people do? You always thought so. The movies never covered the first few hours after the protagonists kiss for the first time.

Your phone battery is almost dying, so you plug it in and get into bed.

Your mom knocks on the door and comes in. “You okay, John?” she asks.

You pretend to snore. You don’t even know if you snore in real life. Your mom seems to buy it and closes the door softly behind her.

There is no way you’re telling her about this yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There may or may not be art for this. I talked to 2 different artists and they said they'd do it but I wanted to perfect this chapter first.


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